


Death of the Modern day Boogeyman or How Gabriel Reyes lived Again

by NevaRYadL



Series: The Rise, Fall and Rise again of Overwatch, Otherwise Known as Gaywatch [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Background Aleksandra "Zarya" Zaryanova/Mei-Ling Zhou - Freeform, Background Fareeha "Pharah" Amari/Angela "Mercy" Ziegler/Satya "Symmetra" Vaswani, Background Genji Shimada/Tekhartha Zenyatta - Freeform, Background Hana "D.Va" Song/Sombra, Background Jesse McCree/Hanzo Shimada, Background Junkrat/Roadhog, Blind Soldier: 76 | Jack Morrison, Depression, Fix-It, Frequent Mentions of Body Horror, Half Native American/Half Latinx Jesse McCree, Hand Jobs, M/M, Oral Sex, Past Soldier: 76 | Jack Morrison/Reaper | Gabriel Reyes, Reaper | Gabriel Reyes Redemption, Suicidal Thoughts, Trans Hana "D.Va" Song, Trans Junkrat | Jamison Fawkes, Trans Soldier: 76 | Jack Morrison
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-20
Updated: 2017-06-15
Packaged: 2018-09-01 00:46:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 26
Words: 120,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8600494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NevaRYadL/pseuds/NevaRYadL
Summary: The grim Reaper is dying, cells decaying too fast for his body to catch up. He feels like he is falling apart and the end is neigh. Mind broken, body literally falling apart on him, what happens when he wonders right into Overwatch's front lawn? Is this the end of the new age boogeyman or will someone see something redeemable in him?((WARNING: This is heavily outdated with current lore, the author nor longer ships some of the background ships and is in need of a general quality edit. Proceed with caution.))I am deleting transphobic comments. Fuck off transphobes.





	1. Falling Apart At The Seams

**Author's Note:**

> Sticking our toes in a new fandom, both musey and myself can't help it, we've fallen in love with all the characters and reap76 is our otp.
> 
> What to expect: A sappy redemption arc because we love Reaper too much, a lot of sappy romance between two old soldiers, all of the background ships are f/f or m/m, a few trans headcanons and whatever happens next, it might warm your heart
> 
> Have a good morning, afternoon or night pups, love ya~

He could not hold himself together.

Normally, this was his norm. Holding himself together emotionally, physically and spiritually had been thrown out as any sort of possibility years ago after… after Overwatch. Widowmaker and Sombra would sometimes openly mock him for his wild emotional state sometimes ‘You’re too emotional’, ‘oh look, the barn owl’s feathers are ruffled’ or ‘you’re too edgy today’. They never really meant to actually harm him, it was just jokes at his expense, but on some days where he was fraying at the seams and a broken rag-doll mentally and emotionally he would snap. There was just something about breaking apart into a literal wraith of a creature, hundreds of misplacde eyes, teeth, mouths, claws and ghastly limbs swimming in thick and greasy black smoke and making them run screaming for their lives that was oddly... _therapeutic_.

Talon, as a whole, had gotten used to his moody behavior that came from his PTSD, BPD, deep and suicidal depression, general mental instability and physical instability. Anything he spat out they had learned to duck or take within stride over the years that he worked with them. When he started shooting holes into walls, when he started screaming to the point that his throat broke apart and monstrous screams and blood poured from him, when he broke apart into a ghostly creature that could suck the souls from foolish people, they learned. Often they closed off the area that he was tearing apart in his wild frenzy, to prevent wondering agents from making a fatal mistake and keep damage to a minimum. People who were foolish enough to cross his path were not mourned and they had stopped caring to reprehend him for any unfortunate deaths on his hands years ago.

Physically he literally failed to keep himself together after his cells had been forever changed. Ever since the explosion and the good doctor had ripped him from death’s cold arms and kiss, sometimes he lost control over his ability to phase shift. If his concentration wavered, if his rage overtook him, if his tired mind wavered, his atoms fell apart at the seams and he fell apart into black smoke. At least when he broke apart unwillingly into black smoke, his mind blissfully broke with it, unaware of anything as his atoms simply stewed where he practically melted. Nothing could stitch him back together, it was best just to wait for him to naturally reform.

But something was going on.

He started losing control over his phase shifting.

It had been nothing at first. His usual bouts of emotional hysteria and demented outburts of sorts came onto him and he had broken apart completely, thankfully within the safety of a borrowed room within one of the Talon Bases. According to the digital clock in the room, after he had fully reformed, it had only been about fifteen minutes. Honestly that should have been his first warning that something was _terribly_ wrong, as most of his ‘attacks’ always lasted more than hour without fail. When he tested his control of his phase shifting, he found nor felt anything out of normal.

When he had stood straight and taken a step forward, his right leg, and just his right leg, suddenly broke apart and he found himself on the floor. He did not have time to question it before his left arm fell off and most of his chest started to fall apart. It took almost an hour of panicking and gathering his concentration to pull himself back together. A complete hour of slowly watching his body dissolve into black smoke against his will, watching his blackened insides wetly hit the floor as his skin, bones and muscles faded away into thick black smoke.

After that he had both his normal instances of completely falling apart and instances where only parts of him started coming apart.

While attempting to steal some data from a local gang of organized gangsters, he had one of his partial attacks that turned into one of his normal attacks.

They had Sombra on getting the data out of the gang’s computer system. Widowmaker and himself were set to protect her in the small room at the very back of some older building and the door cracked just enough to still hear her, himself double-fisting his shotguns while Widowmaker lounged on her side and casually shot out of the bottom corner of a door they were covering.

He heard his protégé humming some tune underneath her breath as she taped, taped and taped away. Sometimes he heard her mutter ‘boop!’ and sighed underneath his breath. Her obsession with the phrase and ‘booping’ peoples’ noses was almost as bad as Jesse’s habit of dressing up and acting like a cowboy. God above, the latest addition of the BAMF belt buckle was just plain horrendous.

Double fisting shotguns, he felt the usual muscle tearing and bone cracking buck of the heavily modified weapons with each bullet. Sometimes the whistling shots of Widowmaker’s sniper rifle ruffled his coat and made his ears buzz. If she put another hole through his coat, _there would be hell to pay_ …

[Comm Channel: Extra Fuckers]  
[Hack3r5Lyfe: almost done!]  
[BlackWidow: Hurry up, I am getting bored.]  
[Hack3r5Lyfe: how ya holdin’ up, papi?]

Ignoring the communication device buzzing in his ear, he kept unloading round after round into the guards trying to press forward. Thanks to several devious hackings on Sombra’s part, the guards did not have a gun or bullet between any of them, but they still had those damned shields of theirs. Being well funded assholes, their shields were high quality. He was currently trying to put holes in any of them, but he was one man against a fucking lot of shields.

His shotguns _clicked_ with the telltale sound of an empty clip. He dropped them to dematerialize them, meaning to rematerialize them close enough to the many ammo belts along his hips. Easy, he had done it so many times before. 

Metal vanished from his hands, first step check, dropped far down enough that he could reach down to re-gather the dematerialized matter, second step check, reached up and rematerialized it enough to catch some of the ammo on the belt across his upper left hip, check. The newly reformed guns pressed against his hands against and he lifted one arm to shoot.

_BANG!_

His fading arm went flying back behind him. He looked at the black smoke perturbing from the sickly black flesh of the stump of his arm and then glanced back at his discarded arm that was slowly and sickeningly melting away into blacks smoke on the ground, clawed fingers still holding his shotgun.

“What?” He rasped out.

What in the hell was happening? This was not normal, so how?

Snapping out of his daze with a snarl, he lifted his other arm and started shooting with that gun, ignoring the way that the skin and muscle of his bicep and shoulder were slowly breaking apart into black smoke. The leisurely pace that Widowmaker had been shooting amped up a bit, noting that he was missing _a fucking arm_ and that really was not normal in everything that was normal in his fucked up life.

[hack3r5Lyfe: reaper????]  
[BoogeyMan: **Don’t worry about me, keep working Sombra** ]

He kept shooting, even as most of his shoulder dissolved into black smoke and the dissolving started creeping along the side of his neck and creeping along his chest. Little flicks of black smoke started creeping inside of his mask. His vision would get obscured if it kept going, especially if his eyes slowly went.

_Bang!_ There went his other arm, flying across the room, hitting the door that was supposed to provide some cover for Sombra and knocking it wide open. He looked behind him to see Sombra standing, eyes popped open and gaping at the slowly fading shape of the left side of his chest and the now dissolving right bicep.

“Reaper!”

Facing forward again, he saw that backup had arrived… with guns. One pushed their way to the front and leveled a rather powerful looking rifle at him. With no arms to protect him, he watched the officer pull the trigger, sights on his head. 

The bullet whizzed through the air and penetrated his skull. There was a moment of pain and then a numb feeling as he watched his body disintegrate into black smoke.

When he reformed again, he found himself crammed inside a vent. It took a full minute before he could become aware of his limbs, all thankfully there. There was some awkward shuffling, broad shoulders almost as wide as the vent, before he crawled through the vent system until he came onto a grating that led outside. Not trusting his phase shifting, he pushed until the grating gave and wriggled outside, collapsing onto some empty wooden shipping crates.

Everything felt numb, like morphine was flowing in his veins instead of his thick, black blood. It took a few moments of lying out on those splintery crates before he could make his arm move to touch the comm of his hood hidden ear.

[Entering Comm Channel: Extra Fuckers]  
[BoogeyMan: Reaper reporting in]  
[Hack3r5Lyfe: Papi? D8 where ya at???]  
[BlackWidow: Reaper, you have been MIA for three days]

Three days. He had been floating in his own limbo for three days. Cursing loudly, making several rats scurry about his feet, he hauled himself off those damned crates and called in a pick-up and reported back in less than two hours later.

A few days later he had another attack.

There was a scuffle with a few of those Overwatch heroes. Widowmaker and he had been traveling through the desert to meet up with an information broker. A few hours in and they had encountered the group doing some sort of practice, based on the bullet and flame scorched and marked rocks around them. Widowmaker had to slam on the brakes to not just run one over, though it had been more jerk reaction rather then not wanting to kill one of them with a car.

There was some girl in a mech-suit, short, possibly Korean, thankfully out of the mech. A short man with heavy prosthetic legs and dreadlocks and carrying what looked like a speaker on a gun. There was a tall and scrawny man armed to the teeth with explosives, skin singed and hair actually on fire. A giant man with a hog mask, bearing a deadly hook in one hand and a large gun in the other. Then of course the achingly familiar face of Reinhart. 

Widowmaker yanked her sniper rifle out from underneath her seat shot an explosive hanging off a bandoleer on the tallest man’s chest, creating a diversion as they jumped out of the car. He took cover behind a rock to rematerialize his guns.

While Widowmaker flung herself from towering desert rock to towering desert rock, she took pot shots at the so called heroes, keeping their attention scrambled as he materialized his shotguns. He had barely a chance to stand up and face them when his left leg faded away into black smoke. Not prepared for the sudden loss of support, he collapsed to the ground where the entire left side of his body impacted and vanished into black smoke.

There was something about the right side of his mind suddenly reeling from the loss of the left as his right arm flailed to push against the ground, as though he were stuck in it. That made him think about his cells and about how the big bad reaper was finally facing death that he had skirted before with a bitter tinge of humor. Not a second after, his right side vanished as well.

When he rematerialized again, he found himself in the shade of a cave made from fallen desert rocks.

[Comm Channel: Where the Fuck is Reaper???]  
[Boogeyman: Reaper, reporting in.]  
[BlackWidow: Reaper, you have been MIA for a week! Talon thinks you’ve deserted!]  
[Hack3r5Lyfe: papi, give me five minutes and I can have a transport to you in fifteen]  
[Boogeyman: Widowmaker, have the doctor ready for me, there is something seriously wrong with my physically.]

There was and he had to admit it at this point. Losing control of his phase shifting and disintegrating unwittingly was unusual and concerning. Truthfully he had always decent control of the phase shifting, even right after he had gotten the ability. For him to suddenly lose control…

Was he finally dying? Was his death to fall apart into black smoke and forever be in limbo, a mindless mass of whatever he was now?

The thought terrified him.

When he reported back in about two hours, he was subjected to numerous medical exams. CAT scan, blood tests, X-Rays, tissue samples, bone samples, pumped his stomach, gave him a blood transfusion, shoved a camera down his throat, examined his eyes and finally injected him with several drugs that they refused to disclose the name of. After several hours of pretty much every medical exam known to man being performed on him, a doctor came in to inform him of the results.

“Your cells are decaying faster than they can regenerate,” A faceless doctor in a pristine and crisp white coat said without thought, without emotion or care for his wellbeing. “Most of your blood is clogged with dead blood cells, I’m surprised something has not just fallen off or felt off. Your skin is also drying out, as I’m sure you’ve noticed the cracking. I also noticed that your organs are visible straining as parts of them die or simply shut down.”

He looked at his clasped hands, his gnarled and scar ridden hands that had done so much, felt so much and held so many things. Parts of his hands were cold and refused to warm up, and dry and crackling skin was spreading out from the sides of his hands to the tops and palms.

“You’re dying Mr. Reaper, I know no other way of putting it,” The doctor said, as though he was telling him that they were off for tea next week.

He decided that he needed some time alone.

* * *

It was not hard for him to go off the grid, not when he was dead to the world and not exactly a model employee in Talon’s ranks and they had no way of tracking him if he wanted to vanish.

Despite the complete lack in trust he had about his phase shifting, he traveled in his wraith form away from the Talon base, easily clearing miles upon miles upon miles until he found himself a nice cliff to sit on the edge of.

It was night time, so the moon and stars were over head. Underneath such soft light, he figured it was fine and pulled away his hood and pulled his mask free from his face. A stray curl fell over his brow and his, strangely shaking, hands brushed everything back into place. He had grown it out since…

…

… Since Overwatch, since he donned the name Reaper, since he cut all ties with his previous life, since he left all his friends behind, since he left Jesse who was like a son to him behind, since-

…since Jack Morrison had been so brutally cut from his life.

God damn it, he missed him, even after all these years.

“ _Stupid white boy,_ ” He rasped to himself, “ _Quit hounding my thoughts._ ”

It had okay at first, thinking that Jack was dead. He had moved on, left the memories to rest and was at peace with Jack being dead. But then he showed up as some dumb anti-hero getup and calling himself Soldier 76. How he had raged and felt like a torn and worn rag when he had found out that Jack was alive, even if that bastard claimed that ‘Jack Morrison was dead’. His friend was alive and being a vigilante? At his age?

“ _Don’t think about it, Reaper, don’t think about it,_ ” He scolded himself when he felt the tell tale burn of his eyes, burying his face in his hands despite the rough and dried skin scrubbing against his face in an awful way.

But he could not help himself. How could he not think about his prior relationship with Jack, what could have been if… things had gone differently?

“ _I don’t want to do this anymore, Jack,_ ” He said to the air around him, leaning forward dangerously over the edge, “ _I’m too old, in too much pain and not living for much besides old thoughts and feelings_.”

He wondered if Jack would miss him as he had missed the old commander in turn? Probably not, they had parted on such shitty terms and now tried to kill each other the second they laid eyes on one another. He had too much hate in him to forgive everything or anything that Jack had done and he was sure that Jack hated him for all the blood on his hands.

_He was alone..._

Something felt off about his waist and before he could lean back, most of his lower abdomen, waist and hips disintegrated into black smoke and he was fallen, legs plummeting after him.

There was no screaming, there was no crying, no pleading.

He was too tired.

As he fell, more of his body started disintegrating, rapidly.

He was too tired and already dying, so who gave a damn?

First went his legs and then his upper abdomen, arms and shoulders until he was mostly a black smear in the air.

No one gave a damn if he died from this, not a single goddamn soul, because who cared if the big, bad Reaper suddenly stopped stalking the shadows? Who cared if the boogeyman suddenly vanished without a trace? Who gave a damn if the actual personification of death himself suddenly died because he accidently fell off a cliff?

His head disintegrated into the black smoke cloud.

_**NOT A DAMNED SOUL ON THIS PLANET!** _

He must have impacted the ground, because some time later he woke to the sun shining through the trees. When he sat up, he felt sore and bruised all over.

[Comm Channel: Reaper Houdini]  
[Hack3r5Lyfe: Paaaaapppiiiiiiiiiii]  
[Boogeyman: What?]  
[Hack3r5lyfe: You’ve been gone five days, are you okay??? (　ﾟДﾟ)＜!!]  
[Boogeyman: I fell off a cliff]  
[Hack3r5Lyfe: ¿Qué mierda?]  
[Boogeyman: I’m fine, Sombra, I’ll be back on base in a few hours.]  
[Hack3r5Lyfe: I’m worried papi, r u really okay????]  
[Boogeyman: We both know the answer to that.]

Getting up, with some difficulty as ever bone ached and groaned within him, he got up and just started walking. He would walk until his feet bled because not a damned soul would care either way.


	2. The End of a Boogeyman?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Minor gore, body horror
> 
> Smashing the glass once and glue the pieces together again. Can you do that with the mind and body of the new age boogeyman? But if you glue the pieces wrong, will it spell the end of Reaper or spell a new beginning for Gabriel Reyes? Rest your trust in the angel of mercy to make due on her first failure and see what happens next.
> 
> JAN/9/2016-Fixed several typos

Ana has once called him ‘the human pillow’. Mostly because when he crashed on a couch somewhere, his just as tired friends would gravitate towards him and usually end up curled against him on flop on top of him. From young little Fareeha curling up in a ball on his chest, to Jack flopping on him and snuggling up to him, to McCree using his boney elbows to make room and sticking those cowboy boot funky feet by his head and sometimes stretching out on his legs and letting her legs hang over the armrest, he had been the ‘human pillow’ for years until after Blackwatch was started and he started sleeping a lot less and literally crashing in his locked office.

Ana has said for years it was because he was a dead to the world when he slept and because everyone knew that he would gruff and huff but not truly mind in the end. As much as he did not want to admit, she was right. He had once been a nigh comatose sleeper and while he may have played irritated, he never minded waking to find someone had joined him in taking a nap. They had needed it the first few years and after that… he had needed the alone time.

Even when he had left the name Gabriel behind and became Reaper, the modern day boogeyman, he still sometimes found Widowmaker or Sombra lounging against him if he happened to actually fall asleep somewhere. Widowmaker would always sit back to back with him, rifle in hand or close to her hip, her breath deathly quiet or sometimes humming some undoubtedly French tune so quietly that it would have been easy to miss if she were not so close. Sometimes Sombra would crash, always changing how she ended up, sometimes pressed flush against his side, sometimes her legs draped across his lap, sometimes half propped up against his side. Most of the time, the hacker was awake and tapping away on the screens she could pull up, one or two times she was clonked out and snoring away.

When he got back to base, Widowmaker and Sombra immediately found him sitting by his lonesome one the roof off one of the outcropping buildings. Widowmaker warned him of their presence when an elbow dug into his back and made him sit up straight, before her slim back pressed against his. Sombra brazenly laid herself out between his legs, folding her arms over his thighs and pulling out her screens.

For awhile they kept him silent company, something that he greatly appreciated but also hardly noticed since he had been disassociating since he had gotten back and just went back to when the two had settled.

“Did that no good doctor tell you anything?” Widowmaker eventually asked.

“ _...bad news,_ ” He rasped.

“What did they say, papi?” Sombra asked, looking up at him.

“ _Nothing you need to worry about,_ ” He sighed.

“We need to know if we need to cover you in battle, Reaper,” Widowmaker said without any real bite.

“ _It’ll cause more problems than it solves_ ,”

They left it at that, thankfully, knowing that prodding him only made him lash out both verbally and physically. No need to bother him with the problems he was already dealing with.

He watched Sombra’s screen for a time, idly reading what he could catch before Sombra killed it and pulled up another. He caught some of the hurried Spanish, the English, but most everything else he could not decipher. He wondered if the tech welded to Sombra’s head allowed her to easily be fluent in several dozen languages if not all of them. Would not be too far out of reach, considering the burning ambition that fueled the woman.

“Want to spy on someone, papi?” Sombra asked with a cheeky grin, having noticed his staring.

“ _No, but thanks,_ ” He rumbled.

“I heard… ‘please show me my ex-boyfriend’,” Sombra giggled already shuffling her screens around a bit before finding the one she was looking for. Digging her nails into the corners, she blew up the screen until he saw what looked like a video feed showing Jack practically stalking around the perimeter. The red visor he wore was lit up.

“Salty old white man spotted,” Sombra giggled, using the tips of her nails to shift the screen to follow Morrison.

“Hmm,” Widowmaker hummed by his ear, having taken to spying over his shoulder while using his shoulders as arm rests, “I always did wonder why he wore that visor.”

 _Because he’s more or less blind without it,_ He thought bitterly.

The explosion had done that, the light from the blast had done that to him and those pretty blue eyes. Sure, there were a few surgeries and a cosmetic surgery to restore the brilliant blue of his irises, but everything was just blurs of color to Jack. At least, that was what Mercy had told him after pulling him from death’s cold grip. After the explosion, he did not have it in him to face Jack to see the damage with his own eyes.

_Mercy was hovering her caduceus staff over him, pumping him with healing energy even as his body kept falling apart into grisly chunks._

_“An-angela,” He rasped, blood trickling from his mouth, nose and eyes, “J-Jack… where… okay?”_

_“He’s alive but in critical condition,” She said, “His eyes Gabe… he’ll never see anything again.”_

_**Oh god, this was not how it was supposed to happen. They should have both been dead, why were they both alive? WHAT HAPPENED?** _

“Who’s that?” Sombra suddenly asked, jarring him from his memories.

Jesse McCree came into view and approached Jack. He quickly swiped his clawed fingers through the screen, forcibly deleting it.

“ _ **No one,**_ ” He growled like a feral wraith.

He had protected Jesse’s identity from everyone, especially Sombra, for years, to protect his pseudo-son that he had done so much for. He gave up on Overwatch, Blackwatch, on the world when Jesse got hurt on that one mission that claimed his arm. No way he was going to let Sombra do anything to him now, or anyone for that manner.

There was a reason that he always missed the gunslinger in battle.

* * *

He nearly gave Sombra a heart attack later that evening.

A partial attack that was not leading into a full attack, but he was not bothering to try and force himself together. Both arms and fallen off, most of his left bicep already a puddle of black smoke and his right elbow only a small trail of black smoke. Most of his chest cavity had hallowed out and black smoke lazily pooled underneath of him and darkened the air around him. His disembodied head was resting in the crook of his arm.

Despite his head being cut off from oxygen and his spinal cord, his eyes still managed to roll to her as she strolled into the room.

“PaaaappiiiiiaaaaaAAAHHHHHHH!” She shrieked.

Sombra got down and picked up his disembodied head, lazily dripping black smoke. His eyelids blinked slowly as Sombra stuttered out a butchery of English and Spanish as she looked at his broke body like she was trying to figure out a thousand piece puzzle. After a moment she placed his head a top his torso and pressed the half melted stump of his neck to oozing wound of his neck. Most of his neck melted away already and he had found out ages ago that you could not just force the pieces together.

After failing to make his head stick, she left him and quickly got up and left him there.

He probably should have tried to pull himself together… but he was tired. He just wanted to sleep for the next week, or month, or year or… just forever. He wanted to sleep forever. Leave him on his floor, slowly disintegrating until he was mindless black smoke.

Death of the new age boogeyman…

Sombra came rushing in with a nano-booster, popping the top and holding it over him. She held it over him fruitlessly for almost half an hour, gnawing her lower lip until the nano-booster emptied itself. With the telltale click, she violently shook the damn thing, like she could make it produce more healing power, before cursing its mother and throwing it across the room.

If he could have sighed, he would have. Instead his eyelids slid shit and he focused with all his strength and concentration on pulling himself together, pulling every broke free atom and pulling it in, pulling all the black smoke towards him, condensing it, solidifying it, molding it and shaping it back into his death colored flesh. Sombra watched as he slowly brought himself back together.

When he had finally pieced each loose atom to his broken apart body, he found his body sprawled out on the floor and mostly numb but Sombra looked so happy to see him together.

“Papi, are you okay?” She asked.

“ _I’m not answering that_ ” He grunted.

It took several tries, but he sat up and managed to throw an arm over a stool to help him get up. He felt Sombra’s arms on his sides, lending him some or her strength as he took the laborious task of standing up. When he got up, Sombra ducked underneath his right arm and wedged herself underneath, giving him something to lean against. Grunting, he let her help him walk out of the room.

“…I didn’t make you mad earlier? Stress you out?” Sombra asked as they wobbled along.

“ _Hmm_?”

“Showing you that crusty old man? I was joking about the ‘ex-boyfriend’ bit,”

“ _You weren’t wrong,_ ”

“Wow, really? Didn’t think you’d be into white boys, papi,” Sombra said, making them stop so she could adjust herself to support more of his weight.

“ _He was cute once,_ ” He snorted, “ _Then he stopped being so._ ”

“…Sorry, papi,” Sombra said quietly.

“ _Don’t be, it’s not your fault it went sour_.”

* * *

A simple mission with Sombra, executed it just fine, arms fell off in the escape vehicle. Solo mission to assassinate a target, front of torso broke apart, gave him an excellent diversion to blast the target’s face off with a single shotgun round, mission with Widowmaker to kill a few people, took two out, head fell off and the rest quickly followed but Widowmaker finished it off before leaving a hidden SOS signal for him to find.

The attacks were coming more frequently and more powerfully each time.

 _I don’t want to do this anymore,_ haunted his mind.

It only got worse as he thought about all his mistakes. Every wrong word, every people he had made mad or sad, every decision that blew up in his face. He thought about all the times he had lost his temper and snapped, or all the times that he had been sad and pushed everyone away, he thought about all the little failures that happened in his life, all thought about until every little failure was life crushing and the life crushing ones? Made his chest and head hurt just thinking about them.

He often disassociated when he was not on a mission, staring for hours at a wall as his body fell apart with no concentration. Often he had to force himself back together for the next mission, having milled away what few hours he had to himself just broke away from his broken mind and broken body. Hours just gone into the void, never to be reclaimed again.

_I don’t want to do this anymore…_

Sombra would sometimes track him down, offer to show him a feed from the Overwatch base that happened to have Jack on it. Honestly, thinking about him just made it worse. Made him think of all the mistakes he made with Jack before their relationship just… literally blew up.

_I don’t want to do this anymore._

His full attacks were lasting upwards of two weeks. Talon had given up on trying to keep tabs on him and just gave him what work that they could when he eventually showed up. He felt like a fuck up, a mess, a worthless human being if he could be considered human. He made nothing but mistakes, he did nothing but fuck up and destroy his life. Fuck up, screw up, monster, betrayer, liar, life thief, abomination.

_I don’t want to do this anymore!_

Medication? What would work on his screw up body? Everything burned right through his immune system and when he broke apart he lost anything that might have lingered in the blood. No drug could help him, no drug could soothe him, and no drug could make him blissfully unaware of the world around him. Why he never went to abusing them when he had become Reaper and was struck with chronic pain, because he felt no high and could not kill himself no matter how much he overdosed.

_I DO NOT WANT TO DO THIS ANYMORE!_

If he managed to get some sleep, he found himself sleep walking, trailing all over the Talon headquarters, going here and there and pretty much just wandering in his sleep. Sometimes he found himself outside, sometimes he found himself far away from the base. Sometimes he would not wander far, sometimes he would, but he just… wandered as soon as his eyes closed. Sometimes he Sombra or Widowmaker would wake him up, having found him, one time when he was outside a bird’s song snapped him awake.

_…I don’t want to do this anymore…_

One night… he wandered and he wandered and he wandered and wandered… far away from Talon grounds.

* * *

She was sitting on a bench in the east lawn, enjoying a moment away from everyone and everything, enjoying the cool night air. The moon was over head, a nice change from the cloudy days they had had the past few days. Not that warm, but was it was the middle of fall and making it towards winter. She hoped that everyone had winter clothes to wear, else there would be winter colds, sniffles and frostbite all around.

“I sure hope Lúcio has something both for his prosthetic limbs and his body, he’s not used to cold weather,” She muttered, “Hanzo will actually need to dress himself, teehee…Genji will need his systems adjusted to stand the cold, Fareeha too with all her prosthetic limbs… Bastion will need an upgrade, oh! The Australian boys will need something too, no use going around shirtless. Torbjörn will need sleeves, though he might just tie his beard in an odd way to cover his shoulders.”

A bitterly cold wind swept by, making her shiver violently. She pulled her coat tighter around her and held her hot coffee closer.

“Hana has a full wardrobe, but I should still ask if she has a winter coat. Winston keeps plenty warm on his own, but he should probably get a sweater or two. Master Zenyetta is used to being in the cold, but I should ask him if he needs help with keeping warm too. Jesse might need a thicker serape now that I think about it,” She hummed to herself.

Another wind bit through her coat and she shuddered before slowly standing. Best to head inside, if it was getting cold, did not want to end up waking up Fareeha with cold hands and toes, now did she?

Sipping her hot coffee happily, she was about to head inside when a shadow moved. Not as though the thing casting it moved, most like it was pulling away like a shadowy monster that almost made her scream. She did drop her hot coffee, hands scrambling along her waist only to realize that she was not in her Valkyrie suit and did not have her pistol on her being.

The pause however, letting the shadowy monster get closer to the light of a far watchtower, enough that she caught a bone white mask shaped vaguely like a skull or a barn owl.

“Huh? Gabriel?” She asked.

Reaper drifted slowly across the east lawn, head lowered as though… sleeping? And, his legs were still intact, unlike the other times she had seen Gabriel drifting about in battle. Most of his waist was black smoke, an entire arm was black smoke, and a softball sized hole was dribbling black smoke in his chest.

“…Reaper?” She asked, slowly trailing after the floating man.

Nothing, he was not responding. The scientific part of her mind perked up, but she quickly silenced it. After what she had done to him, she had vowed to never experiment, prod, study or do anything but heal, especially to her friends.

“Gabriel?” She asked a bit louder, taking the few steps to match his pace.

Gabriel’s head twitched but otherwise kept floating slowly, almost leisurely.

“Gabriel?” She said louder.

Reaper’s head suddenly snapped to her, dead stopping so quickly that black smoke drifted forward. She waited, looking at the black holes that looked at her, waiting for her former- no, waiting for her friend to speak, to say something or do anything. After a moment of floating there, mask turned towards her, Reaper seemed like he was leaning over only to realize that he was falling.

Quickly as she could, she put her hands out and caught Gabriel’s torso as it collapsed to the ground and took her down with it, his legs have fallen off. When she looked, she saw black and sickly flesh oozing black smoke instead of blood. Was this normal? Because of the rapid decay and regeneration of his cells?

“Gabriel?” She asked again, using a free hand to touch the side of the mask.

She had wanted to take the mask off, look at the face of her friend that she had not seen in an eternity. But as her fingers moved to slip underneath it, one of Gabriel’s hands closed around her wrist. For a moment she was terrified that he would harm her, but the grip… was gentle, almost not there with how weak it was.

“ _Angela_ ,” Gabriel rasped out.

“Gabriel, tell me what’s wrong, tell me how to heal you,” She asked, moving until their fingers slotted together, holding his hand soothingly.

“ _I’m dying, Angela, I’m dying,_ ” Gabriel wheezed drily, “ _Cells can’t keep up, decaying it too fast, no will to live… I don’t want to do this anymore… I really don’t…_ ”

Cells decaying too fast? Oh gods above, she had been worried about this. Gabriel’s body was dependent on equilibrium of cells decaying and regenerating. If cells were decaying… well his powers would suffer of course, but his body would indeed start to die. Rapid cell decay and… Gabriel would literally start to rot. Flesh rot when someone was alive, that was… completely horrendous! Unacceptable!

“Gabriel, I know I’ve said this before and failed you… but this time, I mean it when I say that _I will save you,_ ” She vowed.


	3. Forgiveness or Grudges

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Minor gore, body horror
> 
> The healing of the body has begun, but the mind still rots. Terrors, nightmares and a ghost that keeps haunting him. Is there something else besides hatred, anger and betrayal in Reaper? Is Gabriel Reyes still in there or did he rot away in a dark corner of Reaper's mind? Forgive but never forget, so let's see how forgiving the monster's victims are.
> 
> 07/16/2017-Editted to make Jack transgender

_“Reyes, this is the new blood,”_

_He shifted his beanie up out of his eyes and blearily looked up at this so called ‘new blood’. Some faceless SEP officer had their hand on the shoulder of some blonde haired, blue eyed farmer boy, based on the fading tan lines. New blood looked nervous, eyes shifting left and right, one hand scrubbing a bicep._

_“Hola,” He gruffed before righting his beanie and begrudgingly dragged his legs off the table so that he could stop leaning back in the cheap metal chair his ass was occupying. He wondered how they had found him in the recreation room when everyone was supposed out doing chores._

_“Reyes here has been here for a bit, closest to your age, make friends Reyes,” The officer said before leaving them._

_Leveling a glare at the officer’s back until he was out of sight, he lazily rolled his eyes to the new blood still standing there, looking around nervously. Tall, had to be a solid 6 feet, bulky body that probably came from farming, though still a bit soft around the edges. The program would strip that out of him soon enough, if he stuck around._

_“Take a seat, you’re making me nervous just standing there,” He grunt, kicking out a chair._

_Farmer boy took it gratefully and slowly sank into it._

_“Gabriel Reyes,” He said._

_“Uh, Jack Morrison,” Farm boy said, offering his hand. He shook it, feeling the scrape of work worn hands against his fingers, “Nice to meet you, Gabriel.”_

_“Welcome to the SEP, otherwise the Soldier Enhancement Program,” He said, vaguely gesturing around them, “Or as some people like to refer to it, the Garbage Disposal.”_

_“Why would they call it that?” Morrison asked._

_“Cause the useless get chewed up and thrown away,” He grinned sadistically, “The strong make it out eventually, but banged up and scarred and tougher for it.”_

_“They make people as tough as you?” Morrison asked, perking up a bit._

_“What makes you think I’m tough?” He asked with a crooked grin._

_“You look like you can kick my ass,” Morrison admitted with a sheepish chuckle, scratching through his blonde hair._

_He laughed at that and Morison was a good enough sport to chuckle at himself._

_“I think we’re going to get along fine, amigo,” He smirked, playfully punching Jack’s shoulder._

* * *

He was screaming.

Every cell that he had grown accustomed to being aware of was burning, bones breaking and stabbing into his rotten flesh, nerves burning hotter than the sun inside of him. Organs ripping and tearing apart inside of him, stomach acid burning everything it touched. Raw flesh open to the air and stinging something terrible.

Somewhere in the background he could hear Angela’s voice, trying to sooth him.

Had it hurt this much when she had tried to heal him? Had he ever experienced this much pain before? It was hard to put 2 and 2 together, thoughts scrambled as the pain ravaged every inch of his body. He felt exposed, felt like nothing was sacred as the pain found every dark corner of his being and ravaged it. Bile gathered up between his teeth and dribbled down the sides of his mouth and stuck his skin to the inside of his mask like glue.

The stink of his own raw flesh reached his nose and his stomach heaved. Angela tried to hook her fingers underneath his mask but he stopped her again.

“ _N-no!_ ”

He ended up screaming again when the raw flesh was hit with more healing and it felt like an open fire had been pressed into the wounds. His own screaming was adding to the pain, furthering the pain behind his eyeballs as his brain fried in his own fucking skull.

Beyond his own screaming, he caught that his dried lips and raw vocal cords were trying to say something. Bits of Angela’s voice made it past the screaming, she was trying to tell him something. A gentle hand touched his throat but the meat of his neck broke apart into grisly bits underneath her fingertips and only added to the pain.

His vision went white and everything faded away.

* * *

_“Hear you and the new blood are getting along, Reyes,” Some faceless nobody laughed._

_“Heard you flunked your last two tests and you’re getting discharged,” He snapped back, watching that malicious smile melt away into full blown anxiety. The hecklers ran off to do something else, leaving him to his workout._

_Not even able to put his ear-buds back in, he felt a friend smack between his shoulder blades and looked to see Jack behind him._

_“Hola, white boy,” He grinned at his recent friend. "How'd your HRT appointment go?"_

_“Hey Gabriel, pretty good, barely felt the needle this time,” Jack grinned brightly, “Mind if I join you?”_

_“I’ll run you through your paces,” He grinned sideways at Jack, hooking his ear-buds around his ears as he wiped his hands on his shirt._

_“With how the program’s been running me, your pace is a cake wake,” Jack laughed._

_“Oh, now that’s a challenge,” He grinned sadistically as Jack swallowed in fear._

_Honestly, he did not push Morrison. Mostly they just did the same workout that he always did with Jack but with some cheesy motivation lines that he yelled at Jack if he started to waver. It got them a lot of stares, but they were the top soldiers in the SEP program, so who gave a fuck?_

_“H-hey Gabriel,” Jack grunted out after they had done their reps._

_“Yeah, white boy?” He said, stretching to work out his faltering knees. He really needed to get braces soon._

_“Have you ever done that pull up and sit up thing with anyone?”_

_“What?”_

_“Oh, up one person does pull ups while another person hangs from their waist by their legs and does sit ups,” Jack explained._

_“I don’t know, sounds kinda gay,” He teased, playfully ruffling Jack’s sweat soaked hair._

_“If you’re afraid of shattering your fragile masculinity that much,” Jack provoked while starting to blush cutely._

_“Oh please, I ain’t ashamed of who I am, amigo,” He scoffed, kicking Jack’s thigh lightly, “But I have to say, white boy, this seems like you’re coming onto me.”_

_He went over and lowered the hanging bar before gripping it in a steady grip and looking pointedly at Jack. If he did not know better, he swore that Jack’s cheeks had a bit of pink to them as he came over and took the bar in hand too._

_“I don’t come on to anyone straight,” Jack huffed._

_So close he had to admit that Jack and he were the exact same height, eye to eye with those beautiful baby blue eyes of him._

_“Who said I was straight?” He grinned as Jack heaved his legs up enough to wrap around his waist. Those legs felt sturdy and extra warm around him._

_“I don’t know, you never said otherwise,” Jack muttered, definitely pink now, “You good?”_

_“Yep, let go,” He gruffed. Jack released his grip and gently eased his weight back hands going up behind his head. The weight was nothing to the usual training and their advanced strength, but something did pleasantly crack in his lower back. “Now back to important matters. Do I really need to say something to announce that I ain’t straight, white boy?”_

_“N-No, just…” Jack was most definitely blushing at this point._

_“Mierda santa! You are coming onto me,” He laughed, pulling himself up._

_Beat red at this point, Jack ignored him in favor for his first sit up. The weight felt off, feeling Jack lean back and then pull forward. Blushing boy pulled up too far and the tips of their noses bumped into each other. Even the tips of Jack’s ears went red as he swung back away from him. He grinned as he pulled himself up and then slowly lowered himself down._

_“How about this, tell me what way you swing and I’ll tell you what way I do,” He chuckled as Jack did pathetic half sit-ups to steer clear of his face._

_“… I’m bi…” Jack muttered like it was a dirty secret._

_“Sup bi boy, I’m gay,” He grinned, watching Jack pause mid sit up to stare at his face like it had sprouted extra eyes or something. It only made him laugh hysterically._

_Before Jack could drop himself, he swung his legs up, catching Jack’s back and forced him forward enough to plant a kiss on his nose. Then of course Jack did drop and he about laughed until he peed himself._

* * *

When his groggy conscious resurfaced, everything felt tacky and sticky, his chest was heaving and everything was spinning.

“Gabriel?”

When he turned and managed to crack open an eye, he saw the blurry shape of Angela come into view.

“How are you feeling?” She asked.

He groaned in response.

“Heh, well you made it first through the first night, you’re cells are showing a much higher regeneration rate then right after we found each other,” Angela almost cheerfully told him, moving around until he felt something dry and mildly cool move along his bare arm, “And your body isn’t showing rejection, which means there is a possibility of completely reversing your cell’s decay rate.”

Everything was sore, like an aggressive work out, but it was mild against any sort of pain he had experienced before, so he tolerated it. After his eyelids took a few tries to blink in sync, his vision started to clear a bit, looking a bit less fuzzy around the edges.

Eventually he could make out details about the room he was in. Clean metal walls, no windows, and a single door that was surprisingly just wood with a heavy looking deadbolt. He was lying on a simple bed, sweat stained sheet pulled up to his bare chest, having been stripped out of seemingly everything except the mask. There looked like a rail with a curtain that could cover his bed and a surgical table with a gleaming steel tray of used syringes and two bloodied scalpels.

Angela seemed to have noticed that he was staring at the tray, flushing a bit before quickly gathering up the tray and taking it over to a counter.

“Sorry, I was performing on you all night, cleaning up escaped me,” Angela smiled tiredly.

He noticed that her eyes were a bit bloodshot and there were sleepless bruises underneath her eyes.

“ _T-thanks,_ ” He croaked pathetically.

Honestly she deserved so much more but his body felt like a used rag and that one word drained what strength he did not have. He now owed her his life twice over and despite how she had saved his life the first time around, she was trying to undo her mistakes this time around. Not to mention, she chose to help him rather than turn him into people that would either execute him or turn him into an experiment.

Mercy offered him a tired but beaming smile.

“Right now you are in my private operating room, hidden away from prying eyes in case something embarrassing or well… private was to come up with our Overwatch operatives,” Mercy said, trotting back over to his bedside. To his left were a number of IV bags that lead into his arm and machines to monitor his life signs. “You wouldn’t believe how easy it is to have a private room by simply being low-tech!”

He took a moment to marvel at the fact that Mercy chose to save him rather then turn him in. After all the lives he took, after blinding Jack, after all the terrorist attacks he had committed and the sheer amount of destruction he had left in his wake since donning the name ‘Reaper’. It would have been the right and just thing to do, turning him in, so why was she doing this, he pondered.

“Gabriel?”

He turned to look at her, watching him with the keen eyes of a concerned and knowing doctor. But he did not have the strength to answer her, just cocked his head to the side as best he could with his stiff neck.

“ _Vergib mir_ , but you had just looked so… sad,” Angela said, patting his arm extremely lightly, probably remembering what had happened with his throat earlier, “Like when… right before you left us.”

Had he been sad before the explosion that officially signaled his departure from Blackwatch and by proxy, Overwatch? He only seemed to remember the anger, the pain, the rage and most of all the utter betrayal. Such violent and soul crushing things he had felt before it all went down, things that scarred him and he had let made him into the monster he had been playing for so many years.

“Gabriel, why do you wear that mask?” Angela asked softly, like she was trending on eggshells asking, “Did you not want people to find out who you are?”

He managed to move his head side to side a bit.

“No then… you’re tired, I should not be pestering you like this,” Angela said before yawning, “And I suppose I should sleep, lest suspicions be aroused.”

She pulled the blanket covering him up further, to his collarbone and adjusted the pillow underneath his head before giving him another beaming smile.

“It’s so good to have you back, Gabriel.”

* * *

When he slept, his head thankfully did not bother to keep memory of his night terrors like it usually did.

They had been haunting his rare few nights since the explosion. Mostly they were gruesome terrors of his body a grisly mess, having been torn apart by the explosion like he had originally planned. Sometimes they were of Jack, bloody chunks in his arms, having been killed by his actions. Later on in his life, they were the faces of those that he killed, quickly replaced by his mind’s fear of something happening to Jesse off the grid and then the cowboy dying in a skirmish between the newly formed Overwatch and any number of its enemies. Sometimes they were about Sombra or Widowmaker getting hurt or killed. Sometimes he dreamed terrors were about his own demise.

Blissful nights of non-existence were treasures in his mind.

When his eyes cracked open, the room was dark. With no window it was neigh complete and advanced darkness. His eye could barely make out anything…

He could make out the door being cracked open, allowing a single line of dark blue light through. His eyes rolled around in his head until they landed on his right side. A body sitting in a chair to his right, barely visible from the thin light leaking into the room. All he could make out was a cropping of lightly colored hair.

Was he dreaming? Was it a new terror in disguise, looking for the right moment to tear his mind asunder? 

Wait… lightly colored hair and visiting his dreams…?

“ _J-Jack?_ ” He rasped.

The body did not move.

“ _Ja-jack, puh-please,_ ” He rasped desperately.

The body did not move. So it was a night terror, come to haunt him with something that he would never have again. Of course his fucked up mind would find the one thing that hurt the worst and just taunt him with it. Had he not suffered enough that his own damned brain was trying to hurt him in some sort of fucked up sense of justice?

_**WHY?!** _

“ _Stop haunting me,_ ” He growled, finding the strength to cover his eyes with his hands, so he could stop seeing everything. “ _That’s all you’ve done is haunt me for years upon years._ ”

“ _That’s all you all have ever done, is haunt my dreams and taunt me that I fucked up even killing myself in that explosion. Did you know that Jack? That explosion was not meant to kill or harm anyone, it was meant to take out the building and security system so Talon could rush in. I was not supposed to be there, but there I was, standing on where one of the explosives were because I didn’t want to go on anymore, I wanted to **die.** But you had to find me, you had to keep ignoring what I said and you stood there when it went off. A poetic death, two former lovers taken out together, but then again, it did not kill you and it nearly, almost nearly had me._ ”

The explosion had meant to take out the building’s security system and harmlessly dispatch the building security staff, make it easy pickings for Talon to swoop in and steal everything that was not nailed down. Honestly he had never intended to join Talon, just told them what they wanted so they could destroy Overwatch and Blackwatch and end his misery. He had found out where the explosives had been planted and went to stand on one to end his physical and emotional misery.

Then Jack had found him, the boy scout had been tracking him for days and finally managed to get to him. Tried to talk to him, soothe over the last few months that had destroyed everything between them. He tried telling Jack to piss off, leave him alone, go away, and get out of here. He had tried everything that he could think of to get Jack out of the building.

_“Gabe, Gabe please, I’m-“_

That was the last words out of Jack’s mouth when the explosion had happened, tearing him into bloody pieces and blinding and carving up Jack’s face. He never did find out what Jack was about to say and after all these years, he stopped wanting to know.

The body was still silent.

“ _My mind can’t even get a image to speak, suppose I deserve it,_ ” He rasped out, awkwardly shuffling onto his side to put his back to this terror, teach his masochistic mind what for, for trying to hurt him with Jack yet again.

“… _I’m sorry, Jack…like you would not believe,_ ” He muttered before closing his eyes again.

* * *

In the morning he was awake and sitting up when Angela came bustling in.

“Oh! Guten morgen, Gabriel,” Angela beamed, looking like she actually got some sleep, or perhaps had been sipping out of her cup that smelled like coffee. He wondered if she had toned down that caffeine addiction of hers over the years.

“ _Morning_ ,” He rasped out.

“Hmm? Didn’t sleep well?” Angela asked.

“… _I had a nightmare about Jack,_ ” He admitted.

“Oh, Gabriel, I’m so sorry,” Angela said with genuine empathy, something that he was not used too, “Would you like to try a sedative for sleeping?”

“ _No, it won’t work,_ ” He gruffed, sinking against the pillow.

“Hmm, I have been pondering that,” Angela mused as she checked his monitors and took the time to replace his IV bags that he was still rather surprised were working or still in his arm, “Your cells seem to have triggers to breaking apart or remaining together, most obvious is being your own will and tied to your emotional state as well. I was wondering if they could be environmental factors as well…”

“ _It’s easier in the cold,_ ” He said shortly.

“I was thinking that too, since your core temperature is only about 20 Celsius, an adaptation undoubtedly you body has made to keep control over your powers and prevent cells breaking apart on you naturally,” Angela continued to muse, going over to the counter and opening its side cabinets to get a new set of sheets and a blanket out, “Perhaps being warm would cause a higher rate of decomposition…”

She offered the sheets for him to change himself and it only took a peek under the ones he was already under to reveal that Angela did in fact strip him, so he quickly changed them out of Angela conveniently looked the other way. She took the soiled ones from him and threw them in a rubbish bin.

“ _Angela…why did you save me?_ ” He asked as she washed her hands.

“Hmm?” Angela hummed before turning to him with one of her radiant smiles, “Because, you are mien friend, Gabriel!”

“ _It would have been the right thing to do, turning in a world renowned terrorist,_ ”

“Yes, but turn in my friend that I have dearly missed since he left? Turn in a friend that I had so desperately wished to help when I knew he was hurting before it was too late? Miss that thing I see in you even now?”

“ _What thing?_ ”

“Gabriel, I can see it in you, that you want to redeem yourself,” Angela smiled warmly, genuinely, “You wish to redeem the past and I and willing to forgive you.”

“ _I doubt there’s anything to redeem, and you’re the most forgiving person on this stinking rock Angela, they don’t call you ‘Mercy’ for nothing,_ ”

“Well, you have a point, but you should see all our new operatives that we have now,” Mercy sheepishly smiled, “We have two world renown criminals that pop in once in awhile, a man that almost killed and butchered his brother, of course Jesse with his juvenile record and let’s not mention that we have an actual budget for ‘recreational damages’ and we often go over. Not to mention the ticket that Ana got last week for darting a-”

“ _Ana’s alive?!_ ” He rasped out.

“Oh dear, b-but don’t feel bad, most of us, including Fareeha have only known for a month,” Angela sighed.

How much did he not know?

“Hmm… Gabriel, may I propose something to you?” Angela asked.

“ _Not marriage, I hope,_ ” He quipped.

“Oh, no, we’re both ‘bat for the wrong team’ for that,” Angela chuckled, “But I have an idea.”

She took up his hand, reminding him that his worn hands nearly dwarfed her dainty hands, but both capable of breaking that thin line between life and death.

“You don’t see something redeemable in yourself, so, you ask forgiveness for those whose past is connected to yours,” Angela explained, “If you are forgiven then there is something redeemable in you.”

“ _No one will forgive me, Angela,_ ” He said.

“I take that as a challenge!” Angela pepped right up.

What the hell had he just gotten himself into?


	4. Sweet Dreams Are Made Of Simple Things

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Mentions of body horror
> 
> Here we go, getting along the long list of people that Gabe needs to get forgiveness and getting at some of that sappiness. Sorry for all the angst!
> 
> Also thank you all so much for all the kind comments, kudos, subscribers and views! You're all so sweet and lovely! Love ya pups!
> 
> -Written by Nev, edited by Six

Angela disappeared for a few hours, leaving him with little to do.

It had been a long time since he felt ‘bored’, but with strict orders not to move that much and not having a lot of strength to do anything, he did not have much to do. He could have slept, but he was terrified of seeing an unmoving and unspeaking specter of Jack back again to haunt him, so he staved off sleeping.

That of course left him just lying in bed with nothing to do but stare up at the ceiling. He did not even get the pleasure of making shapes out of textured titles because the roof was a flat white. Not much of an imagination, it had been something he had been teased for as a child both from the other neighborhood kids and his own extensive family, so he could not entertain himself with fanciful thoughts.

He wished he could move his arms and hands more and had material, thread and a needle. He missed sewing, it had been a comforting hobby when he was Gabriel and people had always come to him with little projects. A busted seam there, a worn hole there, someone got singed during practice and a few bullet holes there, you had a something that needed to be sewed you went to him. It had been his stress hobby the first couple of months in Overwatch, helping him ease through things. When he was made head of Blackwatch he did it less and less because of his failing metal health.

The last time that he had sewed was Sombra’s costume. She had demanded ‘a kickass and cool costume’ that she could wear that would not block access to her gloves and allowed freedom of movement. She refused to go on several missions that they could have used her on until he finally broke down and designed and made her stupid outfit. He left it in her room while she was out and she had been delighted with the results. He had a feeling that she knew it was him but she never uttered a word. But honestly it was unpleasant to do and he hated every second.

Sewing was associated with the past that caused him physical and emotional pain but… he just…

He no longer knew.

Eventually he did cave and went to sleep, pulling the blanket over his head so he could not see Jack appear if his terrors brought him. But thankfully his dreams were forgotten upon waking and when he awoke, he realized that he was no longer alone in the room.

“Oh, it brings back memories,” A mysterious voice said.

“Doesn’t it?” Angela said fondly.

Who was in the room with him? Why did it feel like someone was sitting in the curve of his sleeping body?

Tugging down the blanket, blinking away the glare of the light suddenly hitting his eyes, he saw a soft form wearing a blue hijab sitting tucked up against his body. He saw a bit of silver aged hair sticking out, but she was layered up and he could not make out any distinctive features. Who was this person?

“Oh, Gabriel, guten tag! Did you sleep well?” Angela asked, leaning out from behind the person sitting so close to him.

“ _W-who…?_ ” He rasped.

The figure finally turned and he saw a familiar tattoo underneath their left eye and even aged she was so achingly familiar and just as radiant as the last time he had seen her.

“ _A-ana?_ ”

“Yes Gabriel, it is me,” Ana smiled, practically beaming down at him.

He waited for a reaction, for Ana to suddenly pull a gun or knife out of her clothing and blow his brains all over the pillows. He knew that Ana was a combat medic, but he had seen what she was capable of in a pinch, if she was set on killing someone. Out of the three of them she would have the fastest reflexes and could easily end him with him not having a way to defend himself and Angela devoid of her dinky little pistol.

He waited and it never came.

Instead Ana, still smiling that beaming smile, turned and wrapped her arms around his blanket covered body as best she could and fondly nuzzled into his shoulder.

“You don’t need to ask, I forgive you and welcome you back with open arms.”

The look on Angela’s face was best described as ‘I told you so’.

* * *

They talked for a bit, though really it was mostly Angela and Ana and whatever movement he could make his stiff and sore body do to respond to them.

Ana filled him in a bit on what had happened to her on that mission they swore killed her. She had not been killed but had been fatally wounded and cared for by a low grade hospital. They eye, evidence of the eye patch, had been claimed by the bullet but it thankfully had not gone further than that.

“Oh how worried the doctors were when they rooted around in my skull for all the pieces of lead and shattered tech out of my eye socket,” Ana sighed dramatically, “You know, I had just paid off for that damned eye too. Now the socket is too damaged to replace it and even too damaged to hold a glass one, so it’s this uncomfortable hole in my head, ugh!”

He was surprised that she could talk so nonchalantly about something that should have been horrific, but she had probably had ample time to deal with it on her own terms and could look at it with some bitter mirth now.

“You are cleaning it out, right?” Angela asked, idly scribbling away on a set of forms.

“Enough, stop your worrying!” Ana grinned crookedly.

“Between you and the Australian boys, that is impossible,” Angela huffed playfully.

“Oh but they make things around here extra fun,” Ana smiled, “Sure the other young ones are plenty fun, but those boys just give everything… what’s the word?”

“Explosives, they add explosives to everything,” Angela sighed, “We’re only half way through the month and already over the ‘Recreational Damages’ budget.”

Ana laughed guilty, probably having had part in that.

“Maybe Lúcio will be kind enough to help use with budgeting again,” Angela sighed, “Or maybe Hana with her streaming profits.”

“Let’s make Gabriel sew again!” Ana said, “He used to make the most amazing uniforms for us.”

He did not have the heart, or strength, to tell her otherwise as she prattled on about how she had loved her old Overwatch uniform and the two hijabs that had he had made for her. Honestly he had only passed a few ideas along for the Overwatch uniforms, he had been so bitter and angry over the decision to make Jack leader that he knew better then let himself design and make them. He would have made fool costumes for the lot. He did remember the hijabs though, one a gentle dove grey with rings of silver thread and another of a red material that melted from red to orange to yellow and stitched with patterns of feathers like a phoenix along the edges.

“I should probably start leaving cloth, thread and needles here for you, so you’re not bored if I’m away,” Angela mused, “Would you like that, Gabriel?”

Ana had such hopeful look on his face that he immediately felt terrible for wanting to say ‘no’. But he really did not enjoying sewing anymore and his hands…

“ _Sure_ ,” He rasped.

“Oh, I can’t wait to see what you create,” Ana beamed.

Something beeped by Angela. She pulled a small black device from her coat pocket, giving it a small click.

“Angela speaking,”

“Angela, we’ve got a mission, heading out in 30,”

“Can do, I’ll grab Ana on my way,” Angela said before clicking the device.

“It won’t take us thirty minutes to get ready,” Ana said with a mischievous glint in her lone eye.

“Oh hardly,” Angela grinned back.

He swallowed thickly as their eyes turned to him.

* * *

Before he fell asleep again, there was a stack of different types of cloth, several needles and a few spindles of thread sitting on a bedside table with a desk light. Ana had also gone and found a ‘much thicker and better’ blanket that smelled like the desert and thrown it over him. Angela told him that she would get his something to wear after the mission before the two left in exceptionally bright moods.

Not in the mood to sew, and certainly not in the headset, he instead curled underneath the blanket that smelled like beautiful dry heat and sand and slept.

When he awoke, the room was dark again.

“ _Oh please, not again,_ ”

The door was cracked open and surely enough, sitting in a chair on his right side was a person, only a part of a stock of lightly colored hair visible.

“ _You sure like haunting me, Jack,_ ” He growled out.

Awkwardly shuffling, he managed to make it so that he was sitting up, blanket puddling in excess at his waist. He leaned over to his left and flicked the light on, aiming the light at his left. Honestly he did not want to reveal whatever horror was to his right nor chase it away. If this illusion of his mind wanted to show him Jack of all people, then he would make do with the company.

“ _I really don’t need you haunting me, Jack,_ ” He rasped out, turning his back to this illusion of his mind, “ _Do you just enjoy hurting me? Does it amuse you to watch me struggle? I bet it does._ ”

The body did not move nor said anything.

“ _Do you hate me, Jack? Is that it?_ ” He rasped out, “ _It’s okay, I hate me too._ ”

“ _I wished that explosion had killed me, I wished that Angela had not saved me the first time and I wish she wasn’t trying to save me now. I don’t want to do this anymore, Jack, I can’t keep doing this. Everything hurts too much, everything feels like the moment that that explosion almost killed me. Now I can’t even control this damned ability anymore. I wish I could just break apart forever. I wish anyone or anything would just let me rot somewhere._ ”

The body said nothing.

“ _Leave me alone, leave me alone,_ ” His face felt hot and his eyes were stinging behind his mask, the telltale signs of coming tears. “ _Leave me alone, Jack, leave me alone!_ ”

His raspy voice started to crack and break underneath the weight of his emotions, he saw patches of skin start to disintegrate into black smoke. Pain crackled along his skin, webbing out like it was glass breaking. Like he was breaking and Jack was breaking him and everything was falling apart on him.

“ _God damn it Jack, stop it! Leave me alone! You didn’t think it hurt enough thinking you were dead all these years?! Like it didn’t kill me everyday knowing that you were gone? Then you’re supposed to be back, acting like a goddamn hooligan at your fucking age? Now you’re just sitting here in my dreams, haunting me, reminding me of my mistakes, you don’t think I don’t do that myself?! Every goddamn waking moment of my life I remind myself of what a fucking failure I am!_ ”

He felt something slightly tacky dripping from the corner of his eyes, probably tears laced with his thick black blood. His mask began sticking to his face in all the wrong ways and his shoulder started quivering with the strength that his heart was breaking on him all over again, all over Jack again. Most of his skin and now his muscle were breaking apart into black smoke.

“ _You’re hurting me, Jack,_ ” He rasped before he broke apart completely in blissfully thoughtless black smoke.

* * *

Angela and Ana found him on the floor, mask cracked down the middle, bruised and battered and tangled in the blankets.

When they tried to lift him up, they found out that his left arm was broken along with his collar bone and index and middle fingers on his left hand. Angela and Ana double teamed to fuss over him, getting his arm in a cast then a sling, bracing his fingers, and then putting down this metal strip along his collarbone that Angela claimed a proven and test product of her own design and worked wonders. He could not really move now, but Angela claimed that it would be best to do things the old fashioned way so that they did not mess with the treatment plan for his cells.

“Oh Gabriel,” Ana fussed, petting his hair that really needed to get washed, “What happened?”

“… _nightmare,_ ” He muttered. His voice was rough, well rougher than it already was, his face still tacky with bloodied tears and the horrible empty feeling one got after an emotional meltdown and crying.

“Was it about Jack again?” Angela asked softly.

“ _I would rather not talk about it,_ ” He muttered.

No one needed to carry the burden of his emotional baggage but him, even if it was crushing his mind, body and soul. He would simply remain a broken, fucked up creature out of nightmares for the rest of his life.

“Well… if you ever need it, I can bring in a therapist for you to talk too,” Angela offered softly.

They all left the offer in the air. That was another bag of wet cats entirely and nothing something anyone wanted to address.

Instead he used his unbroken right arm to grope along his mask, namely the crack down the middle that was letting air hit the disgusting mess that was making his face sticky.

“Gabriel, why do you wear that mask?” Ana asked, “You look like a barn owl with it.”

“ _My face forgets it’s a face sometimes,_ ” He grunted out.

“Whut?” Angela and Ana said together.

“ _My face forgets to look normal,_ ” He corrected himself, “ _Too many eyes, too many mouths, too many teeth, things like that. I wanted to be a nightmare to my enemies, but not that terrifying._ ”

In the pause that the two contemplated the horror that was his face, a familiar face blinked into the room.

“ _Lena?_ ” He rasped.

Angela and Ana spun around, putting their bodies between them and the spritely time-traveler that stood there with such an eager grin on his face that he was sure that Lena had lost it and was going to kill them all in a mental break.

“I’m so sorry, but I popped into the future for a hot tick!” Lena grinned, almost shivering with excitement, “I just had to see him then!”

Lena, with speed that would forever baffle him, dove between the two of them and crash landed on him. His broken left arm immediately started screaming in pain and he heard Angela and Ana’s panicked yelling but mostly he heard Lena’s girlishly squealing and giggling by his ear as the lithe sprinter wrapped her arms around the back of his neck as she flailed on him.

It was as Angela almost had a death grip on Lena that he finally made out what the young time traveler was trying to say past her giggling and laughing.

“Oh Gabe! I missed you I missed you I missed you I missed you!”

Lifting his unbroken arm, he got Angela and Ana to let Lena go, slowly shuffling up to get some of the weight off his broken arm still tucked against his chest, marveling that Lena, one of the purest and good natured people that he had ever known, hugging him and telling him that _she missed him_ of all things. Maybe she was going mad?

“Lena! His arm is broken!” Angela finally hissed.

“Oh! Sorry luv!” Lena grinned before bouncing off of him as Angela rushed into the space that Lena had been and gently worked over his arm.

“Lena what are you doing?” Ana demanded.

“Sorry, I just go so excited!” Lena grinned, bouncing on her feet with said excitement, “I popped into the future, not far, about two weeks or so, and I saw Gabe! Here! Enjoying himself! I jumped back a little and found out about him here and then I’m here!”

Arm rest and everything keeping his bones aligned readjusted, Angela turned to her with a firm glare, and arms crossed across her chest and taking such an authoritive pissed off posture that Lena visibly wilted underneath the brunt of it.

“You barge into _my_ private operating room,” Angela almost growled out, “You thrown yourself onto _an injured_ man and your excuse is ‘you’re excited’? What is wrong with you!?”

Lena chuckled very nervously, shrinking underneath Angela’s potent glare.

“S-Sorry, luv,” She muttered.

“Don’t apologize to me, apologize to Gabriel! You re-broke his arm!” Angela growled.

Lena easily slipped over to his right side, ducking down low to put the bed and his body between her and the very pissed off doctor still glaring at her.

“S-s-sorry ‘bout that Gabe, I wasn’t thinking,” Lena muttered to him, eyes on Angela.

Here he thought he was supposed to apologize to other people, not the other way around.

* * *

Lena never asked, but it was sort of untold between them that she forgave him.

Over the next two days she would pop in for a few minutes and chat with him before muttering ‘Aw rubbish’ and blink out of the room. But it was nice to have another friendly face, especially since she could keep him, even for a moment, cheerful company. It brought back pleasant nostalgia instead of soured memories and she was good about avoid subjects that would harm him.

It was… nice. He did not think about all those dark thoughts that were plaguing him, but instead looking forward to Lena blinking into his room or thinking about their little chats. It was just such a welcome thing, such a positive and pure thing in his fucked up life. Sure he was still depressed, but Lena offered a welcome distraction from himself and the dark corners of his mind.

After two days, Angela wanted to put him through another part of ‘his treatment’. She offered him a variety of things to try and soothe the pain that was sure to come, but since his body was still more or less the same he knew that he nothing would really help. He could not even count on his mouth existing for a bit to bite into.

Despite knowing that he could break apart, they both agreed to strap him down to the bed. He had stayed put the first time, but with his broken arm and collarbone, keeping him still would hopefully prevent further harm to his broken bones.

Strapped down, blankets between him and the straps, Angela gently patted his chest. She offered him a reassuring but knowing smile before she lifted up his Caduceus staff. He gritted his teeth, waiting for the pain that would flood him as his cells were forcibly stitched back together.

He still screamed when the pain flooded his body, worse than ever before.

* * *

When he started awake, having passed out sometime during the operation, he immediately felt that the braces were gone and the light was out. Everything was sore, once again, but that was second on his mind because this all was too much like a reoccurring night terror.

“ _Please… please…_ ,” He begged.

His head lulled over to his right, every muscle fiber in his neck screaming with soreness as his eyes slid to his right.

_He was there, again. But worst yet he was closer to his bed._

“ _Please Jack… please stop… please_ ,” He begged.

Then something happened. The body suddenly moved, leaning forward out of the light. The night terror of Jack reached out and gently captured his hand. He was wearing gloves or his dream was sending his brain that Jack’s skin was a strange texture. The night terror of Jack slowly and gently brought his hand towards it and he felt lips press against his knuckles in such a beautifully painful reminiscent way that he felt hot bloodied tears underneath his mask.

“ _Jack, Jack, Jack,_ ” He cried, openly weeping because this was not a nightmare but finally a sweet dream, the first in many, many years.

The dream of Jack slowly and tenderly kissed his hand like they had in their youth during idle romantic moments because Jack always claimed to love his ‘big rough mitts’ and ‘what they could’. He had always laughed it off but let Jack do what he wanted because he loved seeing that big, dopey romantic smile on the farm boy’s face.

“ _I’m so sorry, Jack, I’m so sorry,_ ”

This was perhaps the happiest memory he had had in so many years that everything seemed a little brighter. Even if this was a dream, even if Jack hated his guts in real life, this small moment would keep him going for awhile yet. He would heal, he would pick up the pieces of his shattered life and pull himself back together and this one sweet dream in such a dark swath of his life would keep him going through all of this.

He would keep going on this path of healing.


	5. Crushing and Freeing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No Warnings, intense hugging maybe?
> 
> Sorry about the delay, Musey had a few bad pain days but we're back! Thanks again for all the sweet comments, kudos, bookmarks, subscriptions and all the love. Love ya pups!
> 
> -Written by Nev, edited by Muse Six
> 
> EDIT DEC/18/2016: Fixed incorrect German

“Oh, Gabriel, what are you are you making?” Angela asked as she entered, kicking the door shut behind her, hands full of black clothing.

“ _Ana asked me to fix her coat,_ ” He rasped out, hunched over the thick material laid out on his lap, pulling a stitch tighter.

It was a compromise. He was sewing but he was not creating, instead just sewing shut some tears. The one that he was currently working on looked like a knife had tried to find home in the soft flesh just below Ana’s armpit. It would have been a lethal strike, but there was no blood so he doubted that the old girl let it hit home.

“That’s sweet of you,” Angela beamed before settling the clothing on the foot of his bed, “These are for you.”

He gently set his side project aside as Angela proudly showed off her finds. Gentle fabrics, pretty soft to the touch, Angela found mostly plain things but a few had a few graphics that he found himself rolling his eyes at and almost laughing at. He actually snorted when Angela lifted up a shirt that read ‘Edge Dad’, only making the smile on Angela’s face grow that much more.

“I didn’t know your sizes, so I sort of guessed based on what you used to wear,” Angela said as he slipped the ‘Edge Dad’ shirt on and over his head. “If nothing fits I can go out and get something else.”

Or he could stealthily let out anything that did not fit. He did not want to tell Angela that… well… his already thick thighs and ass had gotten thicker since he had been in Blackwatch. His thighs and otherwise had been something almost legendary in Overwatch and Blackwatch but the bane of his wardrobe. Sure, Jack made him feel a lot better about them when they were together but after that they had only been a bane to his wardrobe again.

While picking through the lot, he found an old grey and black hoodie that was familiar. When he pulled it out from the pile, Angela perked up.

“It’s your old hoodie,” She smiled as he ran his hands over the stitches that marred the material, “After I removed it after surgery and you… left, I just couldn’t throw it away. I paid to have it cleaned and fix and just kept it in hope that you came home one day.”

When he looked over to her, he saw that her eyes were glassy and the tight line of her mouth was wavering. One of her hands moved to the hoodie, fingers brushing against one of the many stitching that held the hoodie together. She was probably remembering the grisly state that they had scrapped him off the ground in, the wounds that she had tried for hours to stitch together only for him to keep falling apart into grisly chunks into. How his wounds bled black…

He placed his hand over hers, making the teary eyed angel of mercy look up at him.

“ _Thank you, Angela,_ ” He rasped out.

She gave him a beaming smile as she wiped away at the almost shed tears, letting him pull on the familiar material over his head. It smelled distantly of vanilla, probably from when it was washed last. He supposed that in time it would smell like him again.

Unfortunately, there was nothing for bottoms except a faded pair of boxers. It was something, but he was already missing his pants.

“Oh, I had good news!” Angela chimed after she had given him a moment to get the boxers on, “You cell decay and regeneration rate are back in equilibrium! So you shouldn’t have too many moments where you lose control of your powers unless you get thrown out of it again.”

That was nice to hear, though he suspected that his nightmares could still influence that. He may have had one sweet dream but that meant nothing in the face of years, upon years of chronic night terrors.

“Your next treatment will be in three days, I’ll be monitoring you vitals and taking blood tests until then,” Here Angela paused and appeared to think deeply about something. “Do you eat anything, Gabriel?”

“ _No,_ ” He answered, having gone back to mending Ana’s coat, “ _Just drink water._ ”

“Unusual,” Angela murmured, taking a seat on the bed with him.

“What is?” Lena said as she blinked into the room, dropping into the chair to his right.

“Lena! You spooked me!” Angela gasped, hand to her chest.

“Sorry luv! Meant to walk in here today, but I got corned by ol’ Reinhardt, he wanted to know what I was doing and I couldn’t think of a bloody thing,” Lena said.

“Oh goodness, I hope he didn’t follow you here,” Angela said, “There isn’t much that Ana, you and myself can do against him if he decided to try and harm Gabriel.”

“Don’t you have those shotguns you like throwing away?” Lena asked him.

“ _I don’t throw them away,_ ” He retorted, “ _I rematerialize them next to the ammo straps on my person and give the illusion that they’ve fallen on the ground to throw off enemies. They disappear after a moment._ ”

“Wait, so you don’t just throw away a bunch of shotguns during a fight?” Lena asked, looking genuinely confused.

“ _The cost of those things would bankrupt Talon in a month,_ ” He pointed out, “ _Not to mention that’s just ridiculous, throwing away a weapon after emptying the clip. What kind of egotistical asshole do you take me for?_ ”

“Well~” Lena stated only to have Angela kick her shin with deadly accuracy.

For a time they idly chattered away as his hands worked. One hole, two holes, a tear, a bullet hole, stitching everything closed until he had done all that he could with what he had. If he had more material, he would have replaced the fraying edges instead of clipping and closing the edges. Perhaps if they brought the material to him later he could, but for now it would not fall apart on Ana.

“Oh yeah, I didn’t find that out from my quick lookie-loo in the future, but how are you going to talk to next?” Lena asked him after awhile.

“ _Hmm?_ ”

“Ah that, I’ve been thinking about that,” Angela mused, looking up from her notes, “Gabriel might either want to start with people he already knows or the newer operatives who haven’t had much interaction with yet.”

“Winston, dead last,” Lena noted.

“Oh, most definitely,” Angela agreed.

“ _Jack last too,_ ” He rasped out.

“Are you sure? I won’t push you, Gabriel, but you two meant the world to each other once,” Angela said, stroking his leg through the blankets, “And the night terrors…”

“ _I broke up with him, I broke his heart, I refused to help him when he was drowning under responsibilities, I blinded him and I’ve attempted to kill him seventeen times now,_ ” He rasped out, “ _What makes you think he won’t want to just put a bullet between my eyes?_ ”

“You two were together?” Lena asked.

“ _Once, a lifetime ago,_ ” He said flatly, putting an end to the subject, “ _McCree also shouldn’t be high on the list._ ”

“Well he forgave Ana,” Angela said, “And she had been his rock after you left.”

“ _There are things I need to tell him,_ ” He said firmly, “ _Things about why I left that I never told him. It’ll take time…_ ”

“Perhaps then you should try Reinhardt or Torbjörn then? You all knew each other, Reinhardt is a jolly man and Torbjörn may be grumpy sometimes but I don’t think he’s one to hold grudges.”

“ _Let’s not forget he never forgave Doomfist for breaking that one turret prototype,_ ”

“Oh… well… we’ll think of something, don’t you worry,” Angela smiled.

“Yeah, don’t ya worry Gabe!” Lena chirped.

* * *

Ana loved that her coat was fixed, gingerly kissing the temple of his mask as thanks before slipping it on. She was not as muscular as she had been in her youth and swam in the loose folds of the coat. An inevitable part of aging he supposed, unless you were like Jack and himself and death just left scars on their skin and their minds but left their bodies hardly changed from their youths. Their steps may have had more weight to them, Jack’s eyes blind and his cells able to fall apart at the seams, but they stood as tall and broad as they had been years upon years ago.

Angela kept him busy for a bit after that, taking a blood sample and taking notes from his monitors before running him through the usual round of medical questions, how he felt, pain levels, usual symptoms, all that jazz. She still marveled at the fact that he never ate anything, she went on several medical rants that he hardly understood any of it, but it seemed to keep Angela busy as she kept wildly scribbling notes down.

When he asked to look at the small vial of his blood, she carefully handed it off, letting him look at the black slurry inside. What had that uncaring asshole doctor said? Dead cells clogging his blood vessels? Those the dead cells were cutting off circulation to parts of his body… when he looked at the small vial of his black blood he could not help but feel like he was seeing a red tint to it. Perhaps wishful thinking that there were some healthy red blood cells in his pitch and tar veins.

It would mean that something was living in this walking carcass.

“… _Can I ask about Morrison?_ ” He rasped out.

“Of course, what do you wish to know?”

“… _How is he?_ ” He asked.

“Mm, well the last physical I got out of him, he’s healthy for his age, arthritis is started to set into his shoulders and hands but he has time yet before he needs to worry about that. He’s not getting as much sleep as I would like him too and not eating very healthily,” Angela ticked off her fingers, “The past few days he’s been… quiet, more so then usual.”

“ _Wonder why,_ ” He snorted.

“I think it’s because rumor on the Talon front is that you deserted and can’t be found,” Angela shrugged.

“ _Can’t kill me himself,_ ” He sighed.

“Oh don’t think that, Gabriel,” Angela said, patting his hand, “Maybe he misses you?”

“ _Missing with his bullets,_ ” He retorted.

“Negative thinking gets us nowhere,” Angela noted, “I have to leave, do you need anything?”

“ _More fabric,_ ” He gruffed.

“Of course, I’ll be back soon, halte dich aus Schwierigkeiten heraus!” Angela said over her shoulder before closing the door on him.

* * *

While he waited for Angela to get back, he idly sewed. At first he just practiced his stitches on a swatch of fabric. After getting bored of that, he tried making a beanie, but he did not have elastic or suitable material for it and ended up making a weird looking hat at best, something that he ended up ripping the seams out of so he could reuse the fabric.

After that he thought about making a stuffed animal and then realized that he did not have any stuffing to put into it. He could have filled it with more fabric, but that would have consumed a lot of fabric for such a little thing. Honestly with the mixed batch of fabrics available, he did not have much to make anything. After brainstorming every possibility, he wished he had something else to fix.

With nothing to sew, that did not leave him with much to do. He could have tried to walk around a bit, but honestly he still did not trust himself to not fall apart, only this time being more grisly the his usual black smoke.

He supposed that he could have slept but… he was honestly terrified of having a night terror after that one sweet dream. It would have left such a sweet and innocent memory tainted, surrounded by such horrific night terrors. But recovering would need sleep… maybe he should have asked for a sedative to sleep like Angela had offered.

Groaning to himself, he leaned back into the pillows behind him, chin attempting to rest on his collarbone only for the chin of his mask to poke his chest. Honestly, it would have been nice to take it off, but there was no telling what sort of weirdness it was doing until he saw a mirror or made the mistake of trying to feel out all the deranged details. One time he accidently poked an eye that had formed on his cheek with the pointed edge of his gauntlets and had gone through the agony of having accidently popped a fucking eye on his face that did not even belong there to begin with.

Cautiously he dragged the blanket off his legs. There were blotches of different skin tones along his legs, almost like odd bruising, but he did not focus on this. Instead he carefully dragged one leg out of bed and pressed his foot to the ground. The cold tile sent an unpleasant chill up his spine and brought his teeth together with a sharp snap. But his foot did not break apart into bloody chunks or black smoke, so hopefully it was a good sign?

Carefully he dragged the other leg over and pressed his toes to the tile too. He was greeted with another unpleasant chill up his spine but his feet were intact. All good so far. Bracing his hands on the edge of the bed, he carefully started lifting his weight up and out of bed and onto his legs. A bit at a time, not rushing himself, not getting himself worked up, until he found himself standing.

He stood for a moment, enjoying the way that he stood tall, without feeling the painful web of agitated nerves that he used to feel when he moved. His joints were sore from little use the past few days and his feet already felt the sting of carrying too much weight, but nothing seemed off and he was not literally breaking apart.

“ _Careful, Reaper,_ ” He muttered to himself as he started taking careful and measured steps towards the counter with the sink.

There was a moment when he felt a tremor of anxiety when he could not hover his hand over anything in case he needed to catch himself, but felt it wash away when he braced his hands on the counter. With something solid to brace himself against, he braced himself emotionally and pulled his mask off his head.

The air hitting the tacky mess on his face tested the strength of his stomach and thankfully there was no mirror to really test it, but it settled down. Breathing loudly out his mouth, he flicked the sink on, letting the water get to a lukewarm state before catching some in his palms and splashing it on his face. As expected, it ran black with his vile blood. Splashing his face a few times and finally scrubbing at his skin, he felt that his face had decided to be mostly normal, two eyes, one nose, single mouth though it was filled with jagged and sharp edges and a tooth was poking out the corner of his mouth, but mostly normal.

When the water ran clear, he scooped up his mask to clean. He had just gotten under the water when the door rattled, like someone had thrown themselves against it. Abandoning cleaning it, he snapped his mask back on and stood on the side that the door would swing open on, listening carefully.

“Wait big guy! H-hold on!”

Sounded like Lena, but who was she talking too…

“Where is he?!”

That sounded like Reinhardt… Mierda.

On instinct he pulled his guns from out of existence, checking the clips as the door rattled again and someone spewed out a rather loud and angry sounding line of German. No bullets, mierda. One angry tank and his best bet at not immediately getting flattened into black paste was Lena and her dinky pistols and time traveling ability.

Fuuuuccckkkkkk

The door rattled again and finally caved underneath the assault. Reinhardt’s too big frame squeezed in as best he could, looking around the room with a firm and heavy brow. He was still behind the door, unseen, feeling like he was in some horrible horror movie. He swore he felt himself start to sweat bullets as Reinhardt peered around before finally ducking back out.

Oh thank god…

Reinhardt suddenly ducked into the room and looked behind the door, one giant hand catching his arm and yanking him towards the massive brute of a man.

* * *

“Reinhardt, dear, please be gentle with him, he’s still my patient!” Angela worried as he was practically smothered by Reinhardt’s thick pectorals, thick arms pressing dangerously against his spine until he felt it groan as the big German man laughed and hugged him like he wanted to squeeze all the guts out of him.

“Gabriel! My friend! My friend!” Reinhardt cheered as he was squeezed.

As it turned out, Reinhardt had broken the door down in his eagerness to see him again. Now he was being crushed against the big man’s chest and Ana and Lena fixed the door and Angela was ready to beat Reinhardt off of him if the big man snapped him in half like he knew he was capable of.

“Please Reinhardt! Be gentle!” Angela demanded, swatting the big man’s head with her staff.

“Oh but Angela!” Reinhardt laughed loudly and heartedly, “It is Gabriel! He has come to his sense and come home!”

“ _I’m about to black out of those sense, Reinhardt,_ ” He gasped loudly, wriggling around to try and draw air into his lungs.

Reinhardt eased up on the almost spine breaking, letting his feet hit the ground and draw in several ragged breaths as one huge hand clasped his shoulder. He breathlessly thanked whomever was upstairs and looking down on him that 1.) Reinhardt had decided not to outright kill and 2.)Reinhardt did not snap his spine and kill him.

“Gabriel! You have returned to us!” Reinhardt laughed, “You have renounced your evil ways and returned home!”

“ _You squeezed all the evil out of me,_ ” He wheezed before toppling over.

Angela rushed over to try and help him up, but Reinhardt beat her to it by easily scooping him up damsel style, turning quick and then laying him on the bed feeling dizzy and breathless but euphoric because he had just got away with his life. Angela rushed over and gently started to make sure nothing was broken, again, as Reinhardt smiled that big, pure smile of his.

“Reinhardt, you need to be careful!” Lena scolded the big man, having fixed the door with Ana, “Ya coulda broken him!”

“Sorry, sorry, I am just happy to see Gabriel again,” Reinhardt smiled.

“ _Good to see you too,_ ” He gasped.

“Reinhardt, we need to have a very serious discussion about barging into my private office, breaking my door and nearly breaking someone’s spine… again,” Angela glared after making sure that he was not broken.

Reinhardt visibly wilted under the weight of her glare and he wondered if Angela was getting ornery and meaner in her older years that she could make Reinhardt cower underneath just a simple glare. If his ribs did not hurt and he was still struggling to catch his breath, he would have laughed when Mercy reached up and grabbed the big man’s ear and lead him out of the private room. Ana and Lena laughed though, giggling together as Reinhardt was tugged out the door.

When they disappeared, Torbjörn passed by the open door before it could get closed. All three of them stared blankly as the grumpy short man stood there with a coffee cup and blankly stared back at them.

“…You gonna break my shit?” The Swedish man finally grunted out.

“ _No,_ ” He rasped out.

“You gonna blow up another building, namely this one?”

“ _No,_ ” He gruffed. He wanted to point out that Talon blew up the building, not him, but figured that would come later.

“…” Torbjörn shrugged and took a swig of his cup, “Welcome back, Gabe.”

After a moment, Ana collapsed onto the bed with him and Lena soon followed and they both started laughing until tears ran down their faces at the sheer ridiculousness of the situation. They laughed and laughed and finally he let out a few rough chuckles, as much as his bruised ribs would allow anyway.

“That was something,” Ana laughed, wiping away at her lone eye.

“Oh luv, I think I know why it doesn’t take long for you to be here and happy,” Lena giggled, flopping over to give him an awkward laying down hug, “We’ve all be waiting for you to come back.”

That felt nice, being wanted and cared for. To have people that were excited and happy to see him instead of running in terror. Maybe... just maybe... he could go back to having such an happy and slightly zany extended family that made work bearable and life so worth living. Maybe, just maybe.

* * *

When he opened his eyes, it was dark. Lazily he rolled his head and his eyes to his right, see the chair had been pulled closer and the dimly lit figure of Jack’s body, arms and head resting on the edge of the bed. He vaguely remembered Angela saying telling him that Jack was not getting enough sleep, something that his sleeping mind must have remembered.

Ever so gently, he lifted his arm and gently found the back of Jack’s head. The farm boy’s hair felt a bit thinner and wirier then he remembered, but maybe it was all a trick of his sleeping mind. He gently pet the dream Jack’s sleeping head, working his fingers through Jack’s hair.

“ _Sleep tight, mi amor,_ ” He murmured to the dream.


	6. Screaming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Slight body horror, heavy makeout
> 
>  
> 
> UPDATE DEC/10/2016: Fixed lore breaking information  
> UPDATE: DEC/11/2016: Fixed a poorly worded sentance  
> UPDATE: JAN/12/2017: Fixed the ending so it worked with the canon of the story and generally makes more sense  
> UPDATEL APR/4/2017: Editted with release of more lore information  
> -The Muse Six
> 
> I am going to kick Nev's gay ass for this chapter, I swear I will =___=

_“Hey Gabe,” Jack groaned._

_“Hey white boy, nice stitches,” He laughed._

_Gingerly he brushed his fingers long the cut bisecting Jack’s face. Farm boy’s face tried to scrunch up, only to pull on the stitches, forcing him to relax his face again. The skin next to the stitches felt slight sticky with whatever the doc had smeared to clean it up. Jack’s mouth softened as he carefully looked the dark stitching over, thinking about the badass scar that it would leave behind._

_“It hurt too much, mi amigo?” He grinned, leaving Jack’s butchered face alone._

_“Stings like a bitch,” Jack sighed, hand lifting as though to touch his face and deciding otherwise._

_“Aw, want a kiss to make it better?” He teased._

_“Yes,” Jack replied quickly, too quickly. His face turned beat red as he sputtered and tried to salvage the situation that he had just gotten himself in. Instead he smiled sadistically and brought his hand up to drag his fingers along Jack’s jaw line._

_“You coming onto me, white boy?” He grinned._

_Jack fumbled with something to say, going red all the way to his ears, before looking at his muddied and scuffed boots._

_“…yes,” Jack muttered._

_He laughed, loud and hard but with no hard edge, catching Jack’s face before he could walk away and kissing that frowning mouth with mirth and joy, not letting him go until that frown had melted away._

_“I heard you practicing pickup lines in the latrine, white boy,” He grinned, rubbing along Jack’s jaw line fondly as Jack so sweetly blushed and lovingly, “About damn time you said something. You owe me dinner for making me wait for you to make a move.”_

_“D-dinner?” Jack adorably squeaked._

_“Yeah, you and me and a decent place to eat Morrison,” He grinned, “It’s a date.”_

_Jack blanched and he about broke something laughing, but when his laughing quelled he gingerly kissed Jack’s warm, blushing face, mindful of the stitching and Jack muttered underneath his breath. Something about ‘about damn time’ and damn was Jack right._

_It was about damn time._

* * *

Angela offered to introduce him to two people named Genji Shimada and Tekhartha Zenyetta. She had full confidence that they would be accepting of him and keep his existence a secret as they tried to reintroduce him back into Overwatch.

“They are… Genji is a augments human, from an accident that left him in little better state then when we found you after the Talon explosion,” Angela said as he bent over Lena’s jacket, pulling a seam shut, “And Zenyetta is a… Omnic.”

“ _If you are referring to the Omnic Crisis, I might be leery but I’m not completely heartless to them,_ ” He grunted, “ _And I may be old, but I still remember Genji, Angela. Remember, he was under **my command** when you weren't tweaking something of his._ ”

True, the Omnic Crisis had made him jumpy to Omnics, but the worst of it had been right after. Too many sleepless nights remembering shooting at things that did not go down easy, things that even torn to hell and back could still kill a man. Lost a number of old and forgotten friends to that Crisis, but that had been years and years ago. Omnic civilians were now common sight, inter-human couples of Omnics and humans almost as common as well.

Genji he remembered partially, but only because most of the time Genji was with Angela because his cyberization was forever extensive and Angela was always finding something that needed fixing or adjusting or added. From what he remembered though, Genji had been an angry hothead, always picking fights or trying to prove his worth, one too many times he had hauled Genji home in a bin because he fucked up his prosthetic limbs and literally rent them to pieces. He wondered if time had tempered the ninja.

“ _As long as Zenyetta does not crack my skull open again with one of those orbs of his, I’m fine,_ ” He said.

It was always the healers with the most memorable damage, like getting shot down by Angela or killed by music.

“I’m sure you will love to get to know them, er, well get to know Zenyetta and know Genji-- er, being reunited with him,” Angela smiled.

“Yeah, you and Zen can be all philosophical about death and stuff,” Lena said, blinking into the room.

“ _I would rather not talk about death,_ ” He said before snapping the thread and handing over her jacket for her to slip on, “ _Here_.”

“Amazing work as always, Gabe!” Lena grinned as she shimmied into her fixed jacket.

“Lena!” Angela hissed.

“Huh? Oh! Right, back in a jiff!” Lena grinned before blinking out of existence.

Several moments of silence tense silence followed where they waited for Lena to return with his two visitors. It was sort of unsaid between the good doctor and him, the same fear they had with Reinhardt. A poor reaction that could result in heavy injuries if not death. Zenyetta was a healer true, but still capable of damage and Genji was fast, faster than Angela or himself, and he was the one that could do the death dealing damage to him.

If only he had ammo for his guns or Angela had her pistol, maybe he would not be so nervous.

When the knock came on the door, he stiffened. Angela offered him a reassuring smile before going over to open the door.

“Peace be upon you,”

“Yo,”

The two awkwardly stood in the doorway until Angela motioned them inside with a smile. Genji awkwardly shuffled inside as his master floated beside him, barely making a sound as Angela closed the door behind them. They awkwardly stood there, waiting for someone to say something, anything at all, to ease the tension in the air.

The first thing he noticed was that Genji looked... different. The finalized suit that he remembered was bulked up and no longer hidden by human clothes laid out over them. He also was visibly more... _relaxed_ then he remembered holding himself. Maybe time had tempered Genji into a more rational cyborg.

“Which name would you like myself to address you as?” Zenyetta finally asked, sounding rather relaxed for how tense he felt personally.

“ _…Gabriel or Reaper is fine,_ ” He answered.

“Very well, Gabriel,” Zenyetta said, “My name is Zenyetta and as you may remember him, this is my student, Genji.”

“It is nice to see you again, Reyes-san,” Genji said as he bowed at the waist respectfully. Oh yeah, that reckless, hot headed angry asshole that he once knew got tempered down real good. Genji had never been polite in addressing him.

“I am aware of your situation, Gabriel,” Zenyetta said, “To seek forgiveness and peace of mind after such a violent life is a commendable goal. The road of healing is long and treacherous and to commit to it shows strength of mind, body and heart.”

“Master, may I?” Genji asked.

“Whatever is comfortable for you, my dear sparrow,”

Genji reached for the blank plates of his face. He wondered what the cyborg ninja was planning as he did something along the side and then moved his hands to the back of his head. There was a soft hiss, the green light where he assumed the man’s eyes were dimmed.

The plates unlocked and opened and Genji removed the bottom most face plate to reveal a deeply scarred face, or at least most of one. Truthfully he had never seen Genji without a face plate or something hiding his face and he suddenly had an inkling why. Genji's lower jaw looked like it had been replaced with a metal one. The piece was a smooth segmented pieces meant to replicate the many movements of a lower jawbone, completely with what looked like a segment that met his upper teeth hidden by his upper lip. Geez, no wonder Genji hid that when he was first being put back together, that was some Metal Gear shit right there.

“My older brother did this to me,” Genji, free of the robotic tang, said with a troubled rasp almost like his own, “When he tried to kill me in the name of ‘duty’. But underneath my master’s teachings, I have come to forgive him. I am sure that the others are capable of forgiving you, that anyone is capable of forgiveness if applied.”

Well he knew that someone close to Genji fucked him up, but someone that he worked with? Not to mention him talking so calmly about it? Last he knew if anyone asked about it, Genji had a habit of flying off the handle. One too many times he had haul the damned ninja off of someone that had breathed a word about his cyborg state or what had happened to him. To see that murderous, hot headed man calm and tempered...

“Do you too wear a mask because of the scars?” Genji asked, scrubbing his fingers along his own bare face shyly.

“ _My face likes to forget it’s a face,_ ” He replied lamely.

“Well, you would be among friends with strange faces then,” Zenyetta pointed out jovially, making both Genji and Angela giggle.

After a moment of listening to the three giggle like children, he hesitantly reached behind his head for the straps that kept it in place. His mask already was broken and it was not like he was in any position to fix it. Not to mention the monk was right about being among strange faces…

When the mask fell into his lap, Angela suddenly stopped giggling. She paused in what looked like total and complete shock before letting out a strangled squeak that sounded like a barely restrained scream. She dropped her clipboard as her hands came up to cover her gaping mouth

“ _Angela?_ ” He rasped out, already reaching for his broken mask.

“G-g-Gabriel,” She squeaked out, “Y-you… y-y-you…”

“What is the matter, doctor?” Genji asked, concerned as he was.

“Gabriel… you look like you did years ago.”

* * *

Angela needed a break after seeing his face, looking quite drained. He would have made a quip about seeing Fareeha, recharge herself, but she honestly and truly looked haunted by the sight of his face. Which was strange, what she said, him looking like he had years ago. 

The last time he had looked in a mirror, years and years ago, briefly after his surgery, he had seen a forehead decorated with red eyes, a jaw line decorated with jagged teeth and a nose that was splitting into two before he looked away. When he happened to glance in reflective surfaces if his hood was down, he had noticed that in recent years that there was sometimes grey in his once yet black hair. But everything changed about him, completely black to almost completely grey sometimes, sometimes no eyes, sometimes no mouth but so many teeth.

When he put his mask back on, neither Genji nor Zenyetta said anything about it, probably figuring it was for the best anyway. The one time that his face decided it was going to normal and of fucking course it decided to scar Angela.

The two sat with him for a long time, Genji speaking of some of the younger Overwatch members, telling him about them so he could have some sort of edge when speaking with them later. He heard about the musician Lúcio, the Korean soldier Hana, the scientist Mei, the Russian strongwoman Zarya, the Vishkar rep Satya.

“ _…Vishkar is evil,_ ” He said after a moment, remembering the many times that Talon and them did black-market business. 

Pristine bastards, they had always given him all sorts of creep when Talon made him deal with them. He tried often to pass them onto Widowmaker or Sombra, with Widowmaker a lot better at simply talking to people and Sombra the chronic troll. 

“Do not remind Lúcio, he is already at ends with her,” Genji sighed, real teeth and metal teeth coming together with a soft click, “I had never heard of a ‘Sound War’ before last week and my ears are still ringing from it.”

Zenyetta meanwhile remained silent as they talked, meditating quietly with those orbs of his floating gently around his head, sometimes letting out soft chimes. The only clue that he got that Zenyetta was still listening was when Genji caught him staring.

“Is there something wrong?”

“ _No, just remembering how one of those things broke my skull,_ ” He groaned out, rubbing where his temple was underneath the mask.

“Master can be… overzealous sometimes with his attacks and healing,” Genji snickered, “He gave Tracer a concussion once while trying to heal her on the field.”

“We all make mistakes~” Zenyetta whispered softly in quite the teasing tone.

“Of course, my meditating master,” Genji laughed.

At one point he also had to point out how… ‘under dressed’ Genji was.

“ _You’re basically naked,_ ” He gruffed with humor, " _What happened to those black outfits that you always wore?_ "

“My suit covers me and what flesh I have remaining, it counts as clothing,” Genji retorted, “I just used to wear clothing because I was once ashamed of what I was, I wanted to cover it up as best I could. But since my time and learning underneath Master Zenyetta I have become and am no longer hide my unique body in shame. Besides, clothing always got in the way of my movements and heat vents.”

“ _Heat vents?_ ”

The small circles on Genji’s shoulders suddenly lifted and a burst of short but hot air whistled out. Genji grinned crookedly and he snorted in laughter.

He had no idea who long they talked. Minutes or hours? They mind got tricky with time when distracted with something even as simple as talking. But eventually Angela popped her head back through the door, looking refreshed and recharged.

“Genji, your brother Hanzo is looking for you,” Angela smiled softly.

“I must go, but I enjoyed our time speaking, Reyes-san,” Genji said, replacing his face plate with practiced ease.

“I will go too, Reinhardt is cooking tonight, so I am on fire extinguisher duty,” Zenyetta said with an upbeat of humor that made him snort. 

Of course Reinhardt would still be almost burning the building down with his cooking still after all these years. He stilled missed the terrible German cooking, of only he could eat still.

“ _Nice talking with you two, too,_ ” He said as they left and Angela took their place.

“How did you enjoy your time today?” Angela asked with a radiant smile as she came in and went to checking up on him.

“ _Well, I think,_ ” He said, feeling his mouth twitch up into a smile.

* * *

_“Gabe,” Jack sighed out._

_“Yeah, mi amor?” He asked, softly kissing the side of Jack’s sturdy neck. He had the man pinned against the darkest corner in the unlit rec center, two of those stringy but powerful thighs clasped onto his waist as he held him up with two handfuls of his compact ass._

_“Can you not leave hickies so high? My collar,” Jack paused to gasp and let out a soft little moan, those strong thighs on his waist squeezing that much tighter, “M-my collar is, fuck, struggling to hide them.”_

_“Hmm, maybe,” He hummed, licking just underneath Jack’s jaw line to make him shudder, tasting clean skin and just the smallest bit of stubble, “Worried about our new Overwatch coworkers finding out about us?”_

_“A-ah, a little,” Jack moaned against him before leaning his head back and giving him more skin to explore, “With Lena being, ah, bragging about her, oooh, mystery girlfriend… after all… just… ah! Gabe!”_

_“Hmm, then let me mark you with how much I looovveee you,” He whispered against Jack’s skin, pressing his teeth against the side of his lover’s neck, to add to the number of red marks that already so lovingly decorated Jack’s neck._

_“Ah, come on,” Jack moaned, his hips rolling forward against the leg pressed against him._

_“Gabriel! Jack!”_

_They grudgingly let go of each other. When he noticed the high hickies he left, he shrugged out of the jacket his brother had sent him and wrapped it around Jack._

_“Higher collar,” He explained as he zipped it up and button the collar, fingers brushing against his handiwork with pride, “Besides, blue looks better on you.”_

_“Is this the gaudy one with 76 on the back?” Jack asked._

_“Yeah, suits you better,” He grinned, “Remember you old file number back in the old days? I’m surprised my cousin sent it to me.”_

_“Oh boy, a regift,” Jack grinned as Ana finally found them, flicking the lights._

_“Hey boys, nice jacket Jack,” Ana grinned._

_He grinned sideways at Jack._

* * *

He broke away from his thoughts, staring at the light that had just been flicked off by Angela for the night.

_Oh god…_

Not long after he had given Jack that jacket of his… the decision to make Jack head of Overwatch and him head of Blackwatch and all those illegal black-ops. Fuck… fuck… when everything had gone wrong. They had such a huge fight right after the announcement, he had said so many ugly and mean things.

_“We’re through! Fuck you Morrison! Jump off a fucking cliff and leave me alone!”_

He had never been so violently torn up over a breakup in all his life, cried the entire night away like a loser. The next day he started his reign of Blackwatch as a legendary hardass and scary motherfucker and ignored Jack as best as his broken heart could. If that asshole wanted to blatantly ignore that he had been given a position that he was not trained, ready for, or even wanted at all because he was this pretty white boy with blonde hair and blue eyes, then he wanted no part of him.

“ _Fuck, fuck!_ ” He growled, feeling his eyes burn.

Skin at his joints was breaking apart into black smoke, he tried to grit his teeth and force himself to concentrate, but the more he did the more he thought about all those terrible feelings from back then.

He had gone from a respected soldier to ‘that Mexican thug that beats the shit out of people for fun’ and what did Jack do? Try to fucking salvage their relationship! His life had been ruined! That asshole wanted to get back together?! What the hell had he ever seen in that asshole?!

An arm fell off, black smoke pouring from his shoulder, it was pouring from underneath his mask now. He tore it off, breaking the straps on his mask as he threw it across the room. He vomited black smoke as his insides broke apart into greasy black smoke. Black blood escaped only to join the thick black smoke, eyes dripping black tears as every inside of him broke apart.

“ _ **MORRISON!**_ ” He screamed like the eldritch abomination that he was, shaking the entirety of his room.

With a grotesque throb of his entire body, he exploded into a black cloud of nightmares.

* * *

“What in Sam’s hell was that?” McCree rumbled, scrubbing through his wild beard as the mass of Overwatch's operatives met in the mess hall. Most everyone was in their pajama's, a few still dressed and a few unlucky people in bathrobes and towels. Said modern day cowboy was in a too tight t-shirt that read 'Save a horse, ride a cowboy' and ratty pj's that he was judgmental stares from, mostly from two brothers that made their own sleeping garments look sharp.

“I heard that noise through my stream, is everyone okay?” Hana said, one arm deadlocked around a stuffed rabbit and the other white knuckling her pistol. Not really intimating for someone in a too big, t-shirt slipping off one shoulder and pink rabbit print boxers.

“ _Beep, beep!_ ” Bastion chimed in.

“Athena? Status report?” Winston said, prying his tiny glasses out of the case in his pocket. Even the brilliant scientist had made it off to bed it seemed, his fur sleep rumpled all over in what would have been a comical way if it were not a strange and serious situation.

“Everyone on high alert, we might have an intruder. Warning, my noise senors could not make out what the noise was, enemy unknown.”

"Might? Athena are you alright?" Winston asked worriedly.

"The noise, not human in nature for sure, temporarily stunned all of my sensors and most of my security camera's are still non-operational. I am, as one would say, 'half blind and half deaf'," The AI said stoically. "I would advise physically searching the base as I get myself fully operational again. I was able to narrow down the location to the third through tenth floor before my systems were hit."

“Alright, everyone start sweeping the entirety of the base, just in case. Athena, once you are fully operational again, do a sweep for bugs to make sure that this was not a cyber attack and then scan the entirety of the base," Winston said, shoving his glasses up, "Groups of more then one, never split up and don't leave anyone alone."

Angela threw a knowing glance towards those that knew about Gabriel, already telling them that she would go and check up on him. The noise, horrendously garbled and sounding much like monster's call, had her worried for her friend's health. Master Zenyetta and Lena gave her short nods back, catching her look before joining her to be part of her 'searching' group. 

"Keep safe," Winston said before the groups broke apart and they went looking for this 'intruder'.

* * *

_Ping, ping, ping, ping!_

“You were hurt,”

_Ping, ping, ping, ping!_

“They were unfair to you, they were too demanding of you, they expected you to take their abuse and stop fighting,”

_Ping, ping, ping, ping!_

“Your pain is valid, even if they tried to bury it, hide it from the world, your pain is valid,”

_Ping, ping, ping, ping!_

He felt his fingers twitch, reforming, and curling as the tendons and nerves reformed back into functioning limbs. Slowly, he felt his fingers return from his own personal hell and push through the fog of his black smoke form.

“There you are, please return to us Gabriel Reyes, we would very much like to see you again,”

_Ping, ping, ping, ping!_

Eye lids unstuck as his head reform, mouth open and inhaling hollowly as his throat reformed, followed by his shoulders. Numbly his brain took in the image of Angela and Zenyetta before him, surrounded by a soft golden glow. His fried brain must have been hallucinating because he swore that Zenyetta had a lot of golden arms and what looked like the sun behind him.

“You are doing so well, keeping coming towards us, Mister Reyes,”

_Ping, ping, ping, ping!_

Slowly his arms reformed, until his palms touched the solid ground and pushed, drawing his body out of the black smoke along the ground, away from that hell of sentient non-existence. Gentle hands found his back and helped eased his body forward, providing support but not forcing him as he slowly dragged his legs out, then his feet.

“Come on, Gabe, you’re almost there,”

“You have our support, Reyes-san,”

“There you are, Gabriel,”

He felt a small impact on his newly formed chest and looked down in time to see the glowing orb retreating from him. Another hit home and retreated. When the next hit, he happened to catch it, feeling a warm and comfortable weight in his hand. When he uncurled his hands, the orb retreated, unhindered.

When he gazed up, a metal hand was being offered to him.

“Hello again, Mister Reyes,” Zenyetta greeted kindly.

Sucking in a breath, feeling his newly formed organs work again in quiet harmony, he lifted his hand and took the offered one and let himself get helped being pulled to his feet.

* * *

"What am I going to do with him?" Angela asked Zenyetta as she pulled the blankets up to Gabriel's chest.

"Give him time and patience," Master Zenyetta said, "Healing a broken mind is a long, difficult and pain process. Lapses are to be expected and encouraged in a controled fashion."

"Did you have the same troubles with Genji?" Angela sighed, patting Gabriel's chest. His face, marred with countless pointy teeth and the tight lipped seam of a closed mouth that had formed along one of his cheeks. He looked both old and young, that face that she remembered so well marked with monstrous defects, creased in troubled sleep, but still so desperately the Gabriel that she once knew, the Gabriel that she wanted to know again.

“Yes, though not quite this unique," Master Zenyetta chuckled softly, "I learned quite a bit of Japanese profanity with Genji's outbursts and the many horrific ways that he wished to maim his brother but it was the same. Emotional breakdowns, the vocalization of the object of the mind's obsession, the raw emotion, the break down of physical form. I suppose Gabriel will face quite a similar path, if not darker. I fear his personal demons might be a bit more intense and darker then my dear sparrow's were."

"Will he be okay..." She sighed more to herself, brushing back a stray curl back into Gabriel's hair.

“Just from my small time with him today, I can assure you... he will,” Master Zenyetta said, placing a comforting hand on the angel of mercy's shoulder, "Gabriel has a strong spirit and determination, even though he may seem broken and weak. He needs time to gather his strength, to put together all the broken and missing pieces, but I believe that Gabriel will not only live but be truly happy... in time."

"I really hope so, Master Zenyetta, I really do,” Angela sighed, petting Gabriel's hair absently, tangling her fingers in the pitch colored locks, "I miss him so much and I failed him during Overwatch, during Blackwatch and I failed to save him after the explosion and I want to stop failing him and..."

"Pardon my usage, but making mistakes is what make us sentient beings well... us," Master Zenyetta said, "Mistakes teach us valuable lessons and they can hurt and they can harm, but they happen and we must learn to learn from them, to right them if they produce wrongs and to not let them become what we are. You are making up to him, Miss Angela, you are trying to fix your mistakes and he is trying to put himself together and fix his own mistakes. I think you both are doing fantastic!"

She offered the monk a tired smile, feeling better then she had in days, before leaning over to awkwardly hug Gabriel's unconcious body.

"Sleep tight and heal well, my friend,"


	7. Beat of my Heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Minor body horror, slight gore

“I see what you meant about your face forgetting it was a face, Gabe,” Lena said.

He groaned deeply as Lena poked another eye that had formed on his cheek, drawing his attention to the offending thing. After focusing on it for a moment, he felt the skin close over it and vanish into his skin. Lena poked something that felt oddly like a tooth and he made that vanish as well.

“Lena!” Ana hissed with motherly scolding.

“What?” Lena whined much like a scolded child, “I’m not doing anything.”

“Well you’re making this visit very strange,” Fareeha said.

Fareeha, with a cup of tea from the teapot that Ana had brought in to share with everyone, sat awkwardly on his right as Lena sullenly shifted off the bed and instead took the unoccupied chair on his left. Angela tisked at her softly as she did something with a few syringes of his black blood on the counter with the sink. Ana, who was sitting between his feet, silently sipped from her cup as Fareeha awkwardly swirled hers.

“ _Torbjörn offered to forge a mask for me,_ ” He said after a awkward pause.

“O-oh, you don’t have to, Uncle Gabe- I mean… Gabriel,” Fareeha said awkwardly. The pause was even more awkward that he realized that she had remembered her fond nickname for him when she was a tiny thing that he could once pick up and twirl around.

When he looked at her, he realized that she would probably be the one that could pick him up and twirl him around, with those robotic limbs of hers. The sleeveless muscle shirt and her robotic shoeless feet showed off the pristine navy blue and gold platting. He wondered when she had lost her limbs in the time between when he had known her as a giggly girl with gold beads in her hair and band-aids on her knees to now, the devastatingly strong and convicted woman that had followed in the footsteps of early Overwatch and became a soldier that followed in the footsteps of her old heroes.

“ _You look like you could bench press me,_ ” He noted absently.

“Well, I’m no Zarya,” Fareeha noted with a small smile, “But I have been working out.”

“Hopefully for yourself and not our dear Angela’s sake,” Ana retorted dryly, making both the women stiffen before Fareeha burst into nervous giggles and tired and failed to dissuade the subject.

“ _Don’t approve?_ ” He asked, taking a drink of his tea. His organs squirmed as they were subjected to it, feeling his organs in their confusion of what to do with the tea in the hot water.

“Oh, I certainly have no qualms about it, they are after all, two consenting women of age,” Ana smiled slyly, “But teasing them is always such a delight in my day. They get so flustered whenever you mention it, you would think that they’re school girls rather than grown women.”

Much to the poor lovebirds’ cringe, the two old soldiers chuckled at two blushing women as they slowly sipped their tea.

“N-new topic,” Fareeha said, “Gabriel, are you staying with us long?”

Ah, that question that he had been avoiding. What he was going to do with his life when Angela had pulled all his pieces together and sewed them together so they could not wonder away from him again. Lena said that in roughly two weeks time that he was there at Overwatch… happy and enjoying himself. But did he join Overwatch? Did he linger there? Was to even a good thing that he stays?

Too many factors that churned his stomach with nail biting anxiety.

“ _I don’t know,_ ” He admitted into the rim of his tea cup.

“Do you want too?” Fareeha asked.

“ _I will depend on what people say, I suppose,_ ” He said, “ _I will not stay where I am not welcome, but I sure as hell am not going back to Talon._ ”

“You mentioned in one of little talks that you never intended to join Talon in the first place,” Ana noted, watching the steam rise from her cup, “Why?”

“… _Talon was evil, knew the second I laid eyes on them. I was hurt, I was betrayed by most of my friends and my reputation was in absolute tatters, but I did not want to hurt anyone. Overwatch was corrupt. You and I both knew that, Ana, my anger blinded me to the right away to deal with it. I thought that if it was destroyed then…_ ”

Ana took a small sip as Fareeha looked at her metallic fingers so delicately holding her cup.

“That all the problems would be blown away?” Ana finished for him.

“ _Yes, selfish and short sighted,_ ” He said, blowing steam out between his teeth.

“We are not told much about what happened to Overwatch,” Fareeha said quietly, “Just hear what the officials say and the rumors that have turned into legend.”

“There was some nasty people in Overwatch, luv,” Lena sighed sadly, tired like, “We didn’t know how deep it went until we were dismantled.”

“Assassination contracts, embezzling, blackmail, dark deals, international secret trading, abuse of power, thousands of reports of all sorts of physical, emotional and mental abuse that were swept under the rug,” Angela rattled off, “It was nightmarish to sort through everything after we had been dismantled.”

“ _Illegal arm shipments, human trafficking, drug trafficking, killing operatives by putting them in sabotaged missions,_ ” He added, “ _Knowing locations of God AIs that started the Omnic Crisis and selling them to the highest bidders, selling off wreckage from the Omnic Crisis rather than safely dispose of it._ ”

They left that to simmer in the air for a moment.

“Gabriel, since you’ve stabilized again, I would like to go forth with your treatment later this evening,” Angela finally said.

“ _Right_ ,”

“Have you made a lot of progress with that?” Fareeha asked.

“When Gabriel came to us, his cell decay and regeneration rate were unbalanced, the cells were decaying faster than they could regenerate. With two treatments we have restored order to the decay and regeneration rate, bringing him within his ‘nominal’ standards. However I would like to see if we can completely break it, have his cells act like before,” Angeles explained.

“I thought he was dead?” Fareeha asked.

“Technically, Gabriel is,” Angela sighed, “While Gabriel’s brain is still active, he has no real heartbeat and the only way that blood moves through his body is through the decay and regeneration. The constant cycle also has lead to Gabriel’s metabolism shutting down, resulting in his digestive system shutting down, but the constant cycle seems to be keeping his organs in mostly good condition.”

“ _Mostly good?_ ” He asked.

“Your heart shows some muscle decay and there are clogs of dead cells present in both your organs and his veins,” Angela explained, “Nothing that I cannot fix though!”

“ _With that tone? How could I ever worry?_ ” He drawled out sarcastically.

“Well, if anyone can pull of a miracle, its Angela,” Fareeha said, offering the tired doctor a beaming smile, “She’s so talented.”

“Careful my daughter, you are drooling,” Ana scolded playfully, making Fareeha blush several shades of red and my, were Angela’s ears red as well?

“ _You too really are like school girls,_ ” He chuckled out.

“Oh look at the time! Shouldn’t we get ready for dinner? I hear McCree is cooking, so he’s probably ordering something and claiming that he can cook again,” Angela said hurriedly.

“ _He’s still doing that shit, I see,_ ” He gruffed, “ _That punk learned how to cook from his mama and me, he must still be a lazy little shit._ ”

“You taught him how to cook? Hmm, I shall keep that in mind,” Ana grinned sadistically, probably already planning to blackmail Jesse, “Do you want us to grab you anything, Gabriel?”

“ _I don’t eat,_ ” He snarked.

“Must be nice, with how some of these youngsters cook,” Ana scowled before shooing the other women out of the room, “Be well now, Gabriel.”

Then he was left alone.

* * *

When the girls were out, he took to taking a nap, during which he dreamed.

He dreamed of the mission that made McCree lose his arm. It had been horrific, getting a phone call from half way around the world saying McCree got wounded on the mission and they were evacing. He had demanded to know details, any shred of information about his injuries. McCree had been something of a son to him since he pulled his ass out of that interrogation room and he was worried naturally.

McCree had been whisked home and was still spurting blood when he pulled the would be cowboy’s unconscious ass out of that plane. He had almost broken McCree’s elbow putting pressure on the wound as he carried McCree to Angela’s waiting medical table. He had drilled the team hard and long, trying to figure out what had gone wrong. He screamed and raged until he found out that Morrison had signed off on the mission and then he was a terror.

They had not spoke in months, Jack always tried to talk to him but he had always kept him away. When he tore into Jack’s office, he had tried to perk up and talk all friendly like with him. He practically tore Jack a new one trying to get information out of him, when he did he was even more monstrous.

Jack had played dumb about signing off on the mission, but he had the crumbled paperwork with his damned signature on it, shoved it right into Jack’s face. Jack had pleaded with him, said that it was not his signature like he would be dumb enough to believe that. Insulted by how easy Jack thought he was to trick, he busted Jack’s mouth. He still remembered how one of Jack’s teeth tore open his knuckle in the process, how Jack had held his jaw like it was broken or something.

But mocking faces and mocking voices kept telling him that it was his fault. They screamed how it was his fault. Everything was his fault and no matter how he screamed that he was not, they just kept screaming that it was.

The dream turned sour when a still bleeding McCree came up and started screaming in his face ‘How could ya, Gabe! How could ya?!’ and he had tried to tell McCree that it was not his fault, that there would be no way that he would have let this happen. But McCree, with his bleeding eyes, nose, ears and mouth and the stump of his arm, kept bleeding all over him, kept screaming about how it was his entire fucking fault.

When he started awake, panting and breathing heavy, Angela was just reentering the room.

“Gabriel?” Angela asked, concerned.

“ _Does Jesse blame me for losing his arm?_ ” He demanded, sounding exhausted and weak with his faltering voice.

“Hmm, no, I don’t think so,” Angela said, petting his sweat soaked hair, “I believe that he blames the old higher ups for sending him on the mission.”

He breathed out loud, feeling all his sore muscles relax as the terrible guilt that had threatened to consume him dissipated. He breathed heavily as he sank back into bed.

“Another nightmare?” Angela asked softly.

“ _Yeah,_ ” He rumbled.

“Gabriel, are you sure you do not want me to try and figure out something that could help with your night terrors?” Angela asked softly, “There is no shame in seeking help for them.”

“ _I’ll live,_ ” He said “ _But.. thanks, Angela.. for so much._ ”

* * *

“Alright Gabriel, are you ready?” Angela asked.

“ _You already have me strapped to the bed,_ ” He noted, wriggling as far as the straps would allow.

“You still have a choice, Gabriel,” Zenyetta said.

“ _I honestly don’t mean to be rude Master Zenyetta, but why are you here?_ ” he asked.

“I require his assistance,” Angela said, “I noticed during your last treatment that some of the cell decay almost over took my healing, a strange reaction I have not been able to puzzle out. Zenyetta is here to aid me should I require his help. I would rather not lose you on the table.”

“ _Same here,_ ” He rumbled out, “ _Alright, let’s get this over with._ ”

Angela took up her staff and the orbs around Zenyetta’s neck twirled.

“Are you not going to administer anesthesia?” Zenyetta asked.

“I would love too, but Gabriel’s body burns through it before it can really take effect… he has to suffer through the pain,” Angela lamented.

If anything was said next it got lost as the treatment began. There was a warm glow, like there was warmth finally in his cold and dead bones. But then the healing bypassed any damage and went straight for his cells and then the mind numbing pain started.

His teeth came together as he tried to bear through it, thinking of all the other painful things he had to endure. Training with Jack in the old, old day, all the injuries on the field in the Omnic Crisis, breaking up with Jack, the explosion that ripped him into grisly chunks, all the days of chronic pain as his cells screamed ‘this isn’t right!’.

Something akin to claws stabbed into what he only assumed was his heart and the first scream ripped free from his chest.

Painful memories… getting slammed into metal surfaces because he could not Wraith Form in time, getting electrocuted by Winston’s device, getting treated the first time by Angela, getting treated the second time by Angela…

The claws in his heart turned into a fist and squeezed and he screamed in agony again. It let go for a second only to squeeze again, starting a painful rhythm of stress and relief. He gagged on air as the pain pulsed through his chest.

_Feels an awful like…_

The edges of his vision went black.

_My heart’s beating again._

Blackness consumed him and he passed out. It kept his dreams at bay and let him be unconscious through the pain. Blissfully free of nightmares, terrors and bad memories.

* * *

When his eyes cracked open, everything was sore on the borderline of being painful and his chest felt like a used balloon. When he looked around, he saw Fareeha sitting in the chair to his right with a book in her hands, and though she could sense that eyes were on her, she looked up but a second after.

“Gabriel, are you awake?”

He had a snide answer to give but his chest throbbed painfully and instead he groaned in pain.

“Gabriel?”

He looked to his other side and saw Angela there. She looked worried. He was about to reassure her that he was fine when his chest throbbed painfully again and he moaned in pain instead. Angela leaned over him, obviously worried now. His chest throbbed painfully again and he bit back another groan of pain.

“Gabriel, does your chest hurt?” Angela asked.

“ _Yes,_ ” He growled out.

“A coming and going pain?” Angela asked, picking up his hands and squeezing it.

“ _Yes,_ ” He snapped.

“Gabriel… I-I don’t mean to alarm you but…” Angela started. He was not sure what emotions were playing across her face but her eyes were open and wide. “But…”

His chest throbbed hard.

“ _Angela_ ,” He begged through his teeth.

“Gabriel, your organs are working,” Angela continued, squeezing his hand tight, “That pain in your chest is your heart beating for the first time in years. I don’t know how it happened either. We went through your treatment and I was checking your vitals and the heart monitor went off and I thought it was an error and it went off again and again and I realized that it might be your heart and I-I listened and it was your heart! I checked your vitals and most of your other organs are working… Gabriel, your organs are working again.”

His organs were working again? That painful throbbing in his chest… his thought long dead heart beating again. Now that it was said, his insides felt a little disgusting and slimy. There was also all kinds of weird pressure against his insides, he had a feeling that that at one point that he was used to it, but felt foreign after all these years.

“ _I…_ ” He started.

Angela smiled, squeezing his hand.

“ _I… need to ruin this moment and say I gotta piss,_ ”

“Gabriel!”

“ _It’s been years, give me a break!_ ”

“Blunt as always,” Angela sighed, “Alright, there’s a restroom in my clinic outside, give me a moment to make sure that no one is in there and I’ll smuggle you in.”

With a sigh, Angela quickly ducked out of the room. When the door closed, Fareeha finally broke down into wild laughter, tearing up as she held her aching sides. He did not understand most of the garbled Arabic, but it was nice to see her smile. The powerful woman that he once knew as a girl with beads in her hair and Band-Aids on her scrapped knees.

* * *

Meeting Satya was a bit awkward. Mostly she had wondered into the little private room that he was being kept in by mistake looking for Angela. 

After some rather heated talking, Satya agreed to keep her lips sealed if Angela agreed to let her tell her Vishkar employers that Overwatch was planning on inviting an older member of Overwatch but wanted to oversee his physical rehabilitation first. Satya agreed to not divulge details of his person, saying she would say that the information is out of her reach, but she wanted to know about him in turn.

Satya cut an imposing figure, sitting as he could only describe perfectly, in the old worn chair that had been sitting by his right now by the foot of the bed and staring him down.

“ _What do you want to know?_ ” He gruffed out, feeling mildly intimidated.

“The explosion that resulted from your struggle with operative Jack Morrison,” Satya said.

“ _Is that what they’re saying?_ ” He snorted, “ _That explosion was Talon work. Sure, me and Morrison were fighting before they went off, but it wasn’t Jack’s fault._ ”

Satya cocked a perfectly trimmed eyebrow delicately.

“Very interesting, then what about the rebellion?”

“ _Not very hard to start a rebellion with how corrupt Overwatch was, just had to rally a few people, get them to raise their voices. Wasn’t even really a rebellion so much as about a dozen pissed off people storming a few offices._ ”

“Interesting… so if I may just verify your story… the explosion was a result of Talon? The rebellion was blown out of proportion and this so called struggle between you and operative Jack Morrison… a disagreement?” He could read the disbelieve in her eyes, but she would still probably relay everything she was hearing to her superiors.

“ _Yeah,_ ” He rumbled.

“Very interesting indeed,” Satya said before rising perfectly, “As part of our agreement, I will not mention anything about your presence and I will report to my superiors what Dr. Ziegler will permit. If you will now excuse me.”

She left with a perfectly executed flourish, leaving Angela and himself to take a breath of relief.

“ _Well she seemed nice,_ ” He muttered with a thick air of sarcasm, “ _Do you think she will actually keep her word?_ ”

“Well… she has been actually trying to get along with everyone in passing weeks and has been rather open about what she communicates with her superiors… I believe she will?”

“ _That’s reassuring,_ ” He snarked.

“Oh, have some faith!” Angela chided him playfully.

“ _Because you do nothing but inspire it,_ ” He drawled out.

* * *

When he dreamed of the darkened room again, he turned to his right where his mind usually conjured up that familiar body.

“ _I’m alive, Jack,_ ”

Something warm pressed against the center of his chest. His dreaming mind hoped that it was the side of Jack’s head, listening to his beating heart. The room pulsed with each heartbeat of his. Firm hands were on his sides, holding him to the thing pressed against his chest. Listen to his heart beat, listen to it struggle to do something it has not done for a long time. Listen to his body expel all the nasty shit still in his system.

Listen to him live.


	8. And the man in black followed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARRNING: Body horror, attempted strangulation, alcohol, minor alcohol abuse
> 
> Hey pups, we wanted to get this out before the holidays because unfortunately neither me nor my muse have very nice families to enjoy the holidays with and we wanted to get this out before our writing moods got spoiled. If you're like us, don't let your family get you down! If you have a nice family, enjoy your holiday time with them! Hope you all get lots of stuff that you hoped and wished for and if all else fails have a good morning, afternoon and night pups!
> 
> -written by Nev and the muse Six
> 
> EDIT 4/11/2017: Altered where McCree's deadlock tattoo was to fit with canon

_He watched Jack sop up his bloody nose, bitching and moaning to Ana about ‘the degenerate punk’ and adding a few colorful insults into his groaning and pausing to clean up the blood. That perfect white boy nose of his was swelling and would probably set crooked. He hoped it set crooked. Ana would call him a cynical bitch for it. He would call it perfectly reasonable spite._

_When Jack marched away to clean himself up, he strode over to a sighing Ana and quickly snatched the file out of her hand. It made her quickly spin around to try and rip it out of his hands, but he had length and bulk over her, keeping her at arm’s length with a firm grip on her shoulder as he flicked through the file._

_“Young punk named Jesse McCree, gang name Dead-Eye,” He said as Ana cussed him out in Arabic, “Got enough assistance in enough of the gang’s crimes so that he’ll never see the light of day again, damn lucky he’s not getting the death penalty like some of the other members. Resourceful, quick, damn good aim…”_

_“Gabe!” Ana hissed, clawing at the air fruitlessly._

_“And he knocked Jackie boy’s lights out? I almost like him already,” He deadpanned, skimming through some of the papers until he saw something that made his eyebrows nit together, “Says he’s sixteen… he shouldn’t go to a slammer, not right away anyway. Why is he getting tried as an adult?”_

_“He keeps insisting that he’s twenty one,” Ana huffed, having given up on trying to get the file back, “And he refuses to rat out any other members of the gang. His aim is something Gabe, almost impresses me. He’s supposed to be recruited but… he’s not cooperating.”_

_“Because Jackie doesn’t know what the fuck he’s doing,” He said, “Overwatch officially giving up?”_

_“What are you planning?” Ana asked, with an obvious air of suspicion._

_“Recruiting,” He replied with a wide sadistic smile._

_“To spite Morrison, right?” Ana snapped, glaring at him now, “You two are children! How long are you going to hold this grudge of a stupid fucking promotion over him, Gabe?”_

_“Let’s see… how far is he behind on his duties?” He asked with a cutting edge._

_Ana lost all her bit, suddenly looking very ‘caught red handed’ instead of angry. She worried her lower lip nervously with her teeth._

_“Exactly and I’ll keep this damn grudge as long as he flounders at a job that he’s under qualified for and didn’t even care for until then. Besides, this might be the nicest thing I’ve done for him since dumping his stale white ass,” He said as he went over to the interrogation room, “I’m taking a short term amount of paperwork from his leaning tower of it and adding a long term amount to my barren desk.”_

_He opened and closed the door on a sighing and tired Ana, shuffling into the room with said punk._

_Wild tangle of ratty and greasy hair and dark skin, dressed up in leather and general ratty gang clothing. Dead-Eye sniffled loudly as he casually back straddled the chair across from him, flinching when he threw the file on the table. The dirty hands handcuffed to the table had busted and scabbed over knuckles and at least two broken nails cracked all the way to the quick, probably from fighting something._

_“Jesse ‘Dead-Eye’ McCree,” He said, leaning against the table on his folded arms casually. Kid stank, he could smell it from this far, smelled like grease, gunpowder and old blood. “Name’s Commander Gabriel Reyes, Blackwatch.”_

_“…howdy,” McCree rasped, sounding like he needed a drink bad. Between the dirty brown locks obscuring his face, he could make out two badly chapped lips._

_“Now, ‘Dead-Eye’, do you know what’s going to happen to you?” He asked, sarcastically drawling out the lame ass gang name as he popped his smokes out of his hoodie pocket. A bad habit he picked up after the break up, but it seemed to help take the edge off, even if just for a few moments. He lit one up and took a long drag as McCree shuffled awkwardly in his seat._

_Bruises along the arms, fighting again, there were finger like bruises where he had been dragged all over darkening to a almost black around his elbows and wrists. There was a Deadlock tattoo on the side inside of his left arm, just underneath the bend of the elbow. Underneath the handcuffs were dark red marks where he had fought against them. A fighter, there was a spark of survival in this kid yet, though it seemed to be dimming fast in the face of a life in a dark cell._

_“…yeah,” McCree muttered._

_“All because you decided to shack up with a bunch of low life murderers, drug runners and general scum,” He said, not pulling punches. He saw something salvageable in this kid, something that he wanted to save from rotting in a concrete room. “Why? You should be in school raising hell there, not killing and shooting people and Omnics.”_

_“…the last guy didn’t believe me, you won’t either,” McCree sighed, sad and broken like._

_“Try me,” He challenged, dragging in another long puff._

_McCree swallowed thickly and he wished he could get the kid a water bottle or something. He would have offered a cig but with a dry throat that would have been more a punishment then a present._

_“T-they said… they said they’d kill my folks…” McCree muttered, “Heard about my aim…”_

_“Hmm… and so young?” He asked._

_“I lied about my age for years… they still think I’m twenty somethin’,”_

_He took another long drag. There was something missing. Why recruit so young? A kid did not quite grasp a death threat like a grown man with a family to protect._

_“…What made you run away from home?” He asked._

_McCree stiffened. Bingo._

_“…had a falling out,” McCree admitted, “They threw me out and I was starvin’ and Deadlock said that they’d…”_

_That was much more believable. Young kid on the street, thrown out by parents, starved and no roof over their head. Recruit them young and twist them into killers. That was how the bad guys did it. Twist a young, soft mind until it was a hardened criminal with no moral center._

_He flicked the butt of the cig out of his mouth onto the floor, let Jackie boys take care of it later, it was his interrogation room after all._

_“So, are you really going to go down with these scumbags?” He asked, “Are you really going to go down with the assholes that took advantage of you? Used you and your skills to get what they wanted? Are you really going to rot in a cell for eight decades because of them?”_

_“It’s not like I gotta choice!” McCree snapped, mouth quivering behind his hair. He sniffled loudly again and he realized that his opportunity with the kid literally breaking down because he thought that his life was over._

_“You do actually,” He said calmly, “I like you, kid. Your young, but just looking at your file, I can tell you got a lot of raw talent in you. Resourcefulness, quick wits, that aim that’s got our trained sniper outside impressed, you’re made of sturdy stuff kid and it would be a fucking shame to let you rot in that slammer with all your buddies. So you got a choice. Rot with those assholes or come work with this one.”_

_McCree lifted his head up enough and he saw the glint of eyes that were burning with something that he could only describe as ‘survival instinct’._

_“Don’t gotta sit on that one, I’ll work fer you Commander,” McCree said, “When do I start?”_

_“First things first,” He said firmly, making McCree flinch, “’Dead-Eye? Dead. You’re Jesse McCree again, got it?”_

_“Yeah,”_

_“You will address me as Commander or Sir,” He snapped._

_“Yes, sir!” McCree quickly corrected._

_“Second, shower, you stink and look like you live in a trash can,” He said, getting up and quickly picking the lock on McCree’s cuffs. When the kid pulled his freed wrists to him, he rubbed them as he reached over and shoved nasty brown hair out of his face. McCree’s eyes blinked rapidly at the sudden intrusion of light._

_“A hair cut’s in order too,” He said without hiding his disgust as he let go of the gross hair, “Clothes got to go, you’ll get a uniform or something, and that tattoo is getting covered up.”_

_“Yes, sir,” McCree said._

_“You’ll be a brand new man,” He replied with dry humor, “When they clean you up, we’ll throw you in a room somewhere and start your training tomorrow.”_

_He could have sworn he saw a small smile between the ragged hair as he lead McCree out of the room._

_“Um, Commander, sir?” McCree asked quietly._

_“Yeah?” He was already getting out another cig as he thought of how he was going to add McCree into his small group of Blackwatch agents. The transition needed to be fast, quiet and quick, especially if he wanted to rub Jack’s bruised nose in it._

_“I had a hat on me, can I get that back?”_

_“Yeah sure, they wouldn’t have dumped out your stuff so quick,” He said, frowning when he saw McCree’s eyes bug through his hair, “What? You were going to go rot in a cell, you honestly expect us to hold on to your shit that long? We’ll find your damn hat though, even if I have to make you sift through garbage before I get you cleaned up.”_

_“That’s not funny sir,” McCree muttered._

_“Get used to it,” He said ruffling McCree’s hair almost fondly, “You’re my operative now. You missed out on the easy ship when you tried to break Jack’s nose.”_

_“…It was just a headbutt,” McCree muttered._

_He turned to look at the punk hanging his head and then burst out into tearful laughter of the thought of Jack’s nose meeting McCree’s forehead. Eventually McCree chuckled with him as he went to go get the punk’s hat from lockup._

* * *

He blinked away the pain that sent white lights dancing across his vision, teeth subconsciously grinding down harder on Peacekeeper trapped between his teeth, having changed into sharpened fangs to dig into the metal deeper. The hand wrapped around his throat tightened that much more, digging in until the flesh threatened to break apart.

The floor is cold against his back and his shoulders hurt where he landed. He can hear the scrap of formed teeth along his legs as they drag against the tile. His nails left lines in the cheap tile as he fought not to swing at the body hovering over him.

How did this happen again? His throbbing head tried to recall… Angela saying something about good progress… wanted to try something harder… fuck was it his treatment or the long list of forgiveness? Forgiveness if McCree was here, she had told him and brought him here. There was a struggle when McCree tried to break his neck, he vaguely recalled trying to break apart into his Wraith Form only for Peacekeeper to get pulled.

 _Should have known that this would have gone sour…_ He thought dully.

“Jesse McCree! You let him go right this moment!” Angela shrilly screamed.

“Why should I?” McCree drawled, cocking Peacemaker, “He’s a murderer Angela.”

 _So were you, at one point,_ He wants to say, but should probably watching what he says with a gun in his mouth.

“I SAID NOW!”

Peacekeeper was shoved further down his throat, almost provoking his gag reflex. Probably would have really pushed McCree to blow his brains out if he puked black, bloody vomit over himself.

“McCree!”

“Why?” McCree growled out to him and just him, jabbing Peacekeeper into roof of his mouth hard, “Why come crawlin’ back? After all this time? Why now?”

Of course he cannot answer with a gun almost gagging him, but McCree’s heavy brow dips further the longer he just stars up at McCree, like he’s angered by the silence. He cocked Peacekeeper again with obvious intent to pull the trigger instead of trying to scare something out of him.

“Justice ain’t gonna dispense itself,” McCree drawled out.

“McCree!”

_Bang!_

He reformed, feeling the heat of the barrel on his tongue. McCree’s eyes opened a fraction in surprise as his mouth hissed. He cocked Peacekeeper again and fired and he reformed right after. Bang, bang, bang and he reformed each and every time, eyes locking back onto McCree’s when they reappeared. Another fang formed, scraping along the barrel between his many teeth.

Last shot, cowboy.

McCree’s jaw clenched hard, he could see that through the scruffy beard that needed a hard clipping. So did his hair, he did not think that without him to harp on him that McCree would let his image go so far. He still smelled like those awful, cheap cigarillos so close, he had hoped that at least McCree would step up to actual cigars or spend more than a few bucks and buy the better brands. Actually he had hoped that the awful habit that he had instilled in him would fizzle out over time without him to ruin the cowboy’s life.

Peacekeeper was cocked again.

“McCree please!” Angela almost sobbed.

" _Last shot, cowboy, make it count!_ "

_BANG!_

Peacekeeper’s barrel sizzled on his tongue, cooking the flesh as he stared impassively at him. McCree’s jaw was tight underneath his scruff and he was shaking hard above him. The smell of his cooking tongue reached his nose and his stomach churned hard, wanting to expel all the black hellish goo in his system and get the gun out of his gag reflex.

The hand around his throat tightened and his body responded by making a mouth along the base of his throat to breath. McCree noticed when a fang poked his finger and realizing that choking him was now impossible, he shook harder over him. Probably angry that he’s not dying quick. He wondered how many times McCree had daydreamed about putting bullets in him, standing over the high and mighty villain Reaper and saying he put the grim reaper in his grave.

_Call the undertaker!_

Tired of the gun in his mouth, he phased out, reforming when his forehead met McCree’s and he was eye to eye with the cowboy, the man’s arm in his mostly black smoke chest.

“ _You done?_ ” He rasped out.

McCree’s hat was tilted out of his face, not hiding those eyes as they stared back. Surprised, angry, hurt, resigned, defeat. Reminded him a lot like the glint of those eyes he saw in that dirty, greasy punk in the interrogation room.

McCree gritted his teeth. Peacekeeper clicked empty in a vain attempt to shoot again. The cowboy clicked again, again, again and again like he could magically make another bullet appear in the empty chambers. There was pain in his face as he kept trying to shoot nothing, scowling hard.

Breaking into his Wraith Form, he reformed leaning against the bed, breathing a sigh of relief unhindered by a gun in his mouth. Angela none so gently shouldered McCree out of the way so she could help him get his stiff and sore knees up over the edge and crawl into bed. She wanted to look into his mouth, not caring that it was full of jagged teeth. Delicate fingers pried his mouth open and pushed teeth away from his sizzling tongue so that the good doctor could look.

“First degree burns,” She tisked, followed by something that sounded suspiciously like a German curse.

“Why? Why now, why you? Just... why?” McCree muttered, more to himself as he flopped gracelessly into the chair on his left.

Angela turned on her heels, eyes filled with rage and a mean air about her. McCree flinched, hand holding his hat to his head as the angel of mercy glared daggers at him.

“You, _you_ ,” She growled.

He got to watch Angela chew out McCree hard and long, like a bull dog on a tasty bone. Sometimes her English failed her and she raged on in German at him as he cowered in his chair. At one point Genji popped his head in. He watched for a moment before silently slipping in and claiming the chair on his right. At another point Zenyetta joined as well, watching as Angela tore Jesse a new one.

“Do I make myself perfectly clear?!” She snapped, concluding her rant after a solid hour.

“Yes ma’am,” McCree muttered, completely defeated. Angela must have really gotten meaner in her old age that even a willful punk like McCree could be brought to heel by her wrath.

“What was that?” She snapped.

“Yes ma’am!” McCree said a bit louder.

Angela huffed, angrily fixing her hair and quickly fixing her lab coat before turning on heel once again. She blushed softly when she realized that she had a fixated audience that tried to look busy when she looked.

“O-oh goodness, I did not hear you enter,” She said with an embarrassed flush.

“Nothing to worry about,” Genji quickly said, leery of invoking Angela’s ire, “I had wanted to ask if it was okay to bring my brother in to introduce to Reyes-san, but I can see that the reunion between McCree and him did not go… _well_.”

“Because not all of us can forgive murderers right away,” McCree snarked.

“And yet you hang around my brother so much, you know, _the man that murdered me_ ,” Genji snarked back.

McCree, with no quip, huffed and folded his arms across his chest like a pouting child. Jesse never was quick on the draw when his feathers were ruffled like this and it seemed that age had yet to change that.

“I think you might want to hold off on introducing Hanzo to Gabriel,” Angela said, throwing another dirty look McCree’s way, “One headache at a time.”

* * *

They bitched and dug into each other underneath Angela’s and Zenyetta’s supervision. McCree figured that he could not confront him physically he could use his smart mouth instead, so they hashed it out verbally with plenty of bodies to get in between them if things got ugly. Years of turmoil with no name came pouring out and it was almost soothing to angrily get it all out.

“Don’t get on me about my smoking,” McCree snapped at him, heavy brow dipping into a steady glare, “You were smoking those shitty corner store cigarettes when I first met you.”

“ _I didn’t smoke nearly as much as you did and still do, you walking ashtray,_ ” He retorted, “ _I can smell those cheap ass cigarillos all the way over here._ ”

“They ain’t cheap!”

“ _Then maybe you're forgetting to take care of yourself like you always seem to do! When was the last time you gave yourself a haircut?_ ”

“You do need a trim,” Angela added in a deep scathing hiss.

“Compared to you? At least I don’t look like I got hit by every goddamn branch fallin’ outta that ugly tree.”

“ _Says you and the terrible, tacky and ugly cowboy outfit._ ”

“You take that back, you sonovabitch!”

Genji snickered, quickly shushed by a just as giggling Zenyetta. McCree leveled a dark look at them, which only made the barely held back giggles worse. They could tell he was all bark and no bite, especially with his feathers ruffled and that infamous silver tongue tied in a knot. Guess that ‘cool cowboy’ act never went through more then skin deep.

“ _He ever tell you where he got that tacky ass, belt buckle from?_ ” He asked, making McCree turn on him right quick.

“Don’t. You. Dare.”

“From his vanquished enemies,” Genji giggled out.

“Gabe I swear to fucking god, if you tell them I will make you a ghost for real!” McCree snarled, face going scarlet.

“ _You and what gun, cowboy?!_ ” He challenged.

They got into it for a bit, McCree yelling every time he tried to tell them where he got that cheap ass belt buckle from. At one point they slipped into half forgotten Spanish, him naturally growling out each rich word and McCree’s Southern drawl coming through each vowel. Angela seemed glad to be rid of their foul language while she worked and Genji and Zenyetta looked like they were trying to decipher what they were saying, as though concentrating would make them go back to English again.

“ _You once looked me in the eyes and drawled out that stupid catchphrase ‘It’s high noon!’ and pissed your pants!_ ” He said, slipping back into English.

“You sonuvabitch! You said you wouldn’t tell anyone that!” McCree snapped.

Angela choked, almost gagging on her coffee while Zenyetta and Genji giggled.

“ _And that belt buckle!_ ” He started.

“GABE!” McCree screamed, voice cracking like a teenager, “GABE!”

“Gabriel,” Angela said, gently padding at her spilled coffee with some paper towels, “Genji said he wished to introduce you to his brother before, would you still like you?”

“ _Who’s that?_ ” He asked, leaving McCree fuming.

“Hanzo Shimada, older man, dragon tattoo along his exposed arm,” Genji said.

“ _That Hawke-Eye fool with his left tit out?_ ”

“Exactly!” Genji chimed.

“ _After getting throat fucked by Peacekeeper, I doubt he can do anything that will phase me,_ ” He shrugged.

* * *

Hanzo still had his damn left tit out, sitting in the chair that McCree had been sitting in but the cowboy quickly forfeited when Hanzo entered. Now said cowboy was pouting against the wall to his left, arms folded across his chest and his hat tipped down low enough to hide everything but his tight jaw.

“You are… Reaper?” Hanzo started awkwardly.

“ _Am… was,_ ” He corrected, “ _Gabriel Reyes._ ”

It felt odd to introduce himself with a name of a person that he thought long dead. But he was committed to this long road of recovery, so that meant letting the persona, the creature, the terror Reaper die. That meant letting the name die first and letting the memory heal and scar over time.

“Ah, I have… heard things about you,” Hanzo said lamely. He silently lauded the man for keeping such an emotionless face on. Maybe the archer had resting bitch face like he did.

“ _Unflattering things, I guess,_ ” He said.

“You bet your ghosty ass, Gabe,” McCree interjected.

He peered closely at McCree, body language, the space between the cowboy and archer, how he had so quickly given up his chair and a neat creature like Hanzo to have so quickly taken in.

“ _I seek a path of redemption,_ ” He said, “ _Something I’m told that you’d sympathize with my blight, Hanzo._ ”

Hanzo shifted uncomfortably in the chair, frowning deeply. There was tension in his archer muscular shoulders, old tension that rippled anew. Hit the nail right on the head, though that was more due to Genji more than anything. During their earlier chats, the cyborg had mentioned perhaps using Hanzo’s own path of redemption for his past crimes in getting to his good side. It was a bit like cheating, but it was not like he was a hero anymore, not that he ever was.

“Yes,” Hanzo said quietly.

“ _I’m not here to hurt anyone, hell I don’t know if I’ll even stay long, one less murderer to worry about, right Dead-Eye?_ ”

Hearing his old gang name, McCree lost a lot of his bluster. He went back to pouting as Hanzo gave him a sharp look out of the corner of his eyes.

“ _…So,_ ” He started, feeling a sadistic grin tug at the corner of his lips as he saw a dirt cheap way to spin the conversation around and away from him, “ _How long have you two been fucking?_ ”

McCree let out a rather indignant noise, Hanzo looked like he just been smacked, Genji’s lights flared and for a moment his heat vents spat out steam, Zenyetta tilted his head to the side and Angela paled as she went bug eyed. For a long moment there was only the hiss of Genji’s steam spitting heat vents.

“What?” Angela finally sputtered.

“Brother?” Genji asked, sounding like he was torn between giggling and being horror struck.

McCree, red in the face, yanked his hat off like his ancestors had been offended and glared at him.

“You…”

“ _Am I wrong?_ ” He asked.

“Yes!” McCree almost screeched.

“ _So you’re trying? Has he dropped on you the acronym of his belt? It’s a lie, by the way,_ ” He said, unfazed as McCree practically burned with his blush.

“What does it stand for?” Genji asked, giggling.

“ _Boys Are My Favorite. Bought it a pride store down during Mardi Gras when we did a sting down in New Orleans years back._ ” He said, “ _He snuck out, got piss roaring drunk and I found him decked out in shit from the store, namely strutting about with the belt halfway on._ ”

“ _ **GABE**_ ” McCree shrilly said, voice cracking twice.

“ _He bought another one that says GAMF, same thing, Gay Ass Motherfucker, so piss drunk he about puked when he laughed as he bought it,_ ” He said before fading and reforming by Angela when McCree lunged for him. McCree gracelessly hit the bed and tumbled over, sprawling on the ground in a wild splay of limbs. Genji started cackling loudly as Zenyetta giggled next to him. Hanzo was still too stunned to say or do much as Angela giggled behind her hand. McCree got up quick, adjusting himself, red in the cheeks as he glared down at him.

“ _You and what gun, cowboy?_ ” He challenged.

* * *

When he got woken up from his sleep, it was unfortunately not by a dream about Jack, but a drunken McCree swaggering in and flicking the light on before slamming the door shut. His hat was almost tipping off his head and there were stains where he had spilled his drink on his serape.

They had separated after a rather comical game ‘cat and mouse’ around the small cramped room and then Mercy’s clinic outside. He had worn the cowboy right out by phasing everywhere, ripping the ragged breath right out of McCree until he was hunched over and breathing hard. Angela told him that it was the cigarillos, he had said that Jesse was getting old on him and Genji mentioned something about his ‘dad bode’, which only spurred another round of their game until McCree flat out passed on Angela’s floor.

Genji had offered to take him to his room, easily heaving the much larger man onto his shoulder and wishing them a good evening before he left with his master in tow. Angela had messaged her temples and angrily drank three cups of coffee while writing notes as she studied three new vials of his blood until he reassured her that ‘it was just McCree and his way of dealing with things.’ It did little to settle her, but it gave her peace enough of mind to get some sleep.

“ _You smell like cheap whiskey,_ ” He said, sitting up as McCree staggered over to him.

“And yer an asshole,” McCree slurred before sitting on the bed, almost planting his heavy ass on his feet. He had the bottle of said cheap whiskey in a death grip and took a hefty swig from it.

“ _You here to dispense justice, cowboy?_ ” He asked.

“Nah, Angela took mah gun,” McCree said sullenly, following it with another drink, “Said she didn’t trust me.”

“… _I’m sorry, Jesse,_ ” He said quietly after a moment of watching Jesse drink, “ _I fucked up your life, twisted you into something you weren’t and then left you alone. I know a simple apology won’t fix things between us… but I want to fix things between us._ ”

McCree shrugged sadly, drinking again. After a moment he offered the bottle and he took it, take a tentive sip only to frown at the cheap taste. He did not know when dollar stores started selling their own alcohol, so he handed it back with a disgusted shudder. McCree downed it no problem.

“I missed you Gabe, like you wouldn’t believe,” McCree muttered, “You were like a goddamn father ta me and I know I left but I wanted to come back but... you just… were gone.”

“ _I know, I know, I’m an asshole,_ ” He said.

“But fuck if I didn’t miss you,” McCree muttered “Ghosty ass mothefuckin’ asshole”.

He reached out and squeezed McCree’s shoulder fondly. McCree leaned into the touch before flopping onto him. The whiskey bottle hit the floor bottom first, not spilling a drop.

“ _Don’t you dare pass out on me,_ ” He growled out, though without much threat.

“Shut up, you old fart,” McCree said, “And Hanzo an’ I aren’t fuckin’ but shit I wish we were.”

“ _He is attractive,_ ” He noted, absently petting McCree’s head, “ _Looks different from your usual type though._ ”

“Prettiest damn thing to ever walk the planet,” McCree crooned, “He’s so pretty Gabe and he’s loyal and he's got this wicked sense of humor and he snorts at his own damned puns, and he’d pretty damn good with that bow of his and… he’s pretty and… sometimes he’s down right mean but like you used ta be? ‘Charmin’ asshole?’ Something like that and he’s so purrty and… and… I wanna do the thing with him… you know?”

“ _Right._ ”

“You know! The thing?! The thing… with you and Jack, that thing,” McCree slurred, nuzzling into his stomach.

“ _You don’t want what me and Jack had. There was such a small time of us being together and more time just being mean and angry at each other. Besides, we never fucked._ ”

“Whut? Really? Fuck it, I don’t care, I still want a sappy fuckin’ romance with Hanzo so bad… fuck you outted me to him, Gabe.”

“ _I’m sorry,_ ” He said, setting McCree’s hat aside so he could pet McCree’s hair. It felt slightly damp and he could just barely smell a berry shampoo coming off his scalp. So he did wash up after all, and here he thought that McCree did not give a damn what people said about his appearance... it was good to see McCree take care of himself though, he was awful about that even under Blackwatch.

“Gabe… remember what you said when I came out to you?” McCree slurred.

“ _Welcome to the damn gay club, now keep running those laps you lazy punk,_ ” He recalled fondly, petting McCree's hair.

“I never said anythin’, but havin’ you in my life really helped, so thanks for validatin’ my gay ass,” McCree said.

He silently pet McCree’s hair, until the drunken cowboy did pass out laying on him, snoring loudly and drooling like he remembered. Back then it had been kinda cute, this severely underweight kid with gangly limbs, big puppy eyes and a mouth that seemed cemented in a sad frown. Now on a beefy and thick as hell bear of a man, it was... gross and weirdly endearing it, though he chalked that up to the thin sixteen year old he had almost literally scrapped over the street. He silently pet McCree’s hair, watching the cowboy sleep his drunken stupor off until Angela came in a handful of hours later.

She smiled at McCree sprawled out on him like a kid, hidden underneath his serape and hat.

“ _I don’t think its forgiveness, but it’s something,_ ” He shrugged.


	9. Junkers, Dancers and Old Men

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Implied Jesse McCree/Hanzo Shimada, refereed too Junkrat/Roadhog, trans Junkrat
> 
> Happy *late* New Year! Hope everyone didn't suffer too much for the holidays, both me and musey are sure glad that they're over anyway. Here's to a newer and better year! Anyway, enjoy!
> 
> A fun fact about this chapter! Musey actually has a Southern drawl and I made him skype me to say McCree's lines so I could get a grip on the accent =P I still have no idea what a jack rabbit is tho.
> 
> -Written by Nev
> 
> 10/27/2017: Minor quality edit between the interactions with Hanzo and Gabriel and Jesse

“ _You’re hopeless,_ ” He growled out, yanking his foot back from underneath Jesse’s boot, “ _Didn’t outgrown those two damned left feet of yours, I see._ ”

“Shut up,” Jesse grumbled.

“ _I realize that the Legolas may have prosthetic feet, but no one likes a klutz that steps on toes,_ ” He said, taking a moment to correct Jesse’s posture. None too kindly he made Jesse stand straight, kicked his legs a smidge apart and pulled the hand crawling down to his armpit back down to his bicep, which only pulled an indignant noise out of the cowboy.

“ _When you can manage to not break my fucking toes, I’ll show you how to lead, for now, follow,_ ” He said firmly, grabbing a hold of Jesse’s waist and digging his fingers in when Jesse grumbled.

Honestly he was surprised when Jesse had nervously come to him, asking for help with wooing the archer. He had expected that after drunkenly passing out on him, that Jesse would ignore his existence in favor of acting like everything was before, in that he was dead and a terrorist and the simple black and white mechanism of heroes and villains. Jesse had almost been pleasant when he had come in with three coffees and looking at his boots as he chewed absently on the end of a unlit cigarillo.

 _‘Tryin’ to quit,’_ The cowboy had muttered when Angela yanked it out of his mouth.

“ _Alright, one more time, we’ll take it slow,_ ” He sighed.

Angela, half paying attention and half writing notes, tapped on the holo-screen of a small hand-held device sitting next to her. Some of the same pop-ish Latin music that they had been listening too for the past hour started up again. Jesse tensed up and he squeezed the man’s waist in response, a warning to loosen up lest his toes suffer again. With a shaky breath, Jesse casted his eyes down to watch his feet as he used his grip and weight to make the cowboy step back. Jesse almost stumbled but managed to catch himself and carefully stepped forward when he pulled the cowboy backwards.

“ _There you go, not so hard, see?_ ” He said, leading Jesse through the barest bones of a few basic steps.

“Shut up, ghosty asshole,” Jesse grumbled, watching his feet intently.

When he happened to glance over at Angela, he saw her watching and smiling, chin in her hand as she idly tapped her pen.

“ _Jesse, you realize that dancing isn’t the only thing you’ll need, right?_ ” He rasped out.

“What’dya mean?” Jesse asked, still watching his fumbling feet with incredible scrutiny.

“ _Well you need to actually talk to him,_ ” He pointed out.

“Don’t remind me,” Jesse groaned, “I get so damned tongue tied around him, and you’d think I was a damned teen again.”

“ _You’re too old to be flustered like this, Jesse,_ ” He said, pulling Jesse closer and picking up the pace with their feet. Now that he was not thinking about fucking up, Jesse was not fumbling and stumbling like a half wit with two left feet.

“Don’t remind me ‘bout my age, Gabe,” Jesse sighed, “It only makes all this worse… man my age fumblin’ like a prom night date.”

“ _You never went to your prom,_ ,” He pointed out.

“Yer really not helpin’, Gabe,” Jesse snapped, “Ya gonna help me out er not?”

“ _I don’t know Hawke-Eye, Jesse,_ ” He retorted, making both Angela and Jesse snort in laughter, “ _I’m about as useless as you are at dancing._ ”

“Yer still a mean ol’ snake, ya know that?” Jesse drawled out.

“ _Very few people get nicer in their old age, Jesse,_ ” He snarked, taking a quick step and making Jesse stumble over his two left feet and fumble to catch himself, “ _Especially people that were assholes to begin with, before they got old and crabby._ ”

“Mister Shimada is a very… prickly man,” Angela intervened, “Something happened between him and his brother when they were younger, it lead to Genji almost being killed and to his cybernetic state to this current date. Hanzo spent a great deal of time on a self destructive binge, hating himself for harming his brother and eventually breaking apart from the Shimada clan entirely. It took some time convincing him to come work for Overwatch.”

“ _I see what you meant by having killers in your midst,_ ” He said before muscle memory made him abruptly dip Jesse, making the cowboy shout indignantly and cling to him for dear life, “ _Whoops, sorry Jesse._ ”

“Pull me up!” Jesse grunted.

“…Am I interrupting something?”

Said bane of Jesse’s romantic interest was half in the door way, impassively looking down at Jesse looking up at him. It took only a second for Jesse’s face to light up like a ripe tomato as he sputtered to explain the situation, still dipped.

“ _He’s trying to get into your silky pants, Legolas,_ ” He quipped, yanking Jesse back up.

“…It is called a _Gi_ ,” Hanzo sneered out, “And my name is Hanzo, not this… Legolas.”

Jesse’s forehead met his shoulder as the poor cowboy tried to muffle his laughter. Hanzo just cocked an elegant at the quivering cowboy leaning against him.

“I do not appreciate your familiar tone with me or with McCree," Hanzo said, voice clearly laced with anger and disdain. "Especially when you keep trying to imply _vulgar_ things between the two of us. Especially since I do not know if you are my enemy, my ally or someone that can be trusted at the very least. So cease and only address me when you mean to say something respectful from a distance."

He blinked... wow he really was a mean asshole... but a mean asshole with a point. Damn, he did not even know why Jesse was here and talking to him since it was just yesterday that Jesse tried to blow his brains out. Not to mention Hanzo was right and that he was being overly familiar with him.

" _Sorry, Hanzo,_ " He rasped.

Hanzo just huffed.

" _...but he does want into that Gi of yours,_ " He said, unable to help himself.

Hanzo glared and turned red and Jesse quickly tried to find something else to do and somewhere else to look, just as red.

* * *

Hanzo joined them as he kept trying to get Jesse’s two left feet in line. The archer, for the most part, seemed to take the time to mediate quietly, sometimes offering quips as they did their thing. Hanzo had a rather sharp tongue on him and a rather endearing sort of dry humor about him.

Firstly, Hanzo would not let him tease Jesse, snipping at him for being overly familiar or 'you do not know the present day Jesse' or even outright defending him and saying 'he is not like that'. All true, painfully true, and only made him wonder why the fuck these two were not dating yet, but all in due time, he supposed. He kept teaching Jesse step after step and trying to keep the comments to a minimum.

" _By the way, you forgot your bottle of dollar store whiskey when you passed out drunk in here last night,_ " He said as jerked his foot out from underneath Jesse's boot again. " _I dumped it, didn't want you going blind on me, Jesse._ "

"Ah come on, wasn't dollar store whiskey," Jesse groaned, "A bottle I won off of Fareeha. It's was Egyptian... I think, I don't know I was savin' that fer sumthin' special, Gabe!"

" _I'll buy you a bottle of the good stuff,_ " He said, " _Tequila or rum though, cause you know I won't touch whiskey with a ten foot pole._ "

"At least he did not get the taste for that barbarous drink of his from you," Hanzo said dryly.

" _Sure as hell wasn't anyone around here,_ " He snorted as Jesse grumbled but tried to focus on his steps. " _Jack never really drank anything but moonshine, Angie here drinks raw fucking vodka, and I only ever drank tequila or rum._ "

"Whiskey ain't that bad, sure as hell is a lot smoother then anythin' anyone ever drank, that's fer damned sure, " Jesse retorted, "Sides, it's a south, south west thin', neither of ya would understand that."

He just chuckled as Jesse's riled up feathers, Hanzo smirking from his seat as Jesse huffed.

Choosing not to embarrass himself further, Jesse threw himself into their little dance lesson, heavy brow crinkled in hyper focus as he looked at his two feet. Angela played some more Latin music on her hand-held, sometimes pausing in her notes to look with a warm smile as he bantered back and forth as they stepped to and fro. Hanzo went back to his meditating, eyes closed as he sat on the bed that had been pushed aside to give the dancers room. Only sometimes did he catch the archer’s cracked eye to watch them move.

It felt strangely nostalgic. Not that he ever taught Jesse how to dance before, because there are been more practical things to teach. But that was what it reminded him off, him and McCree up at three am, still aching from a mission but the punk had mentioned something about not knowing how to even cook instant noodles and that could not stand. 

Three am and banging pots and dishes around trying to teach Jesse how to cook something, hell even something basic, and watching those ‘oh so skilled’ hands fumble with even the most trivial tasks. Man, Reinhardt had raised hell about all the wasted food and then hip bumped Jesse over to show him ‘some good old fashioned German cooking’. Breakfast that day had been what eggs, bacon and toast that Jesse did not burn black as charcoal, Sauerkraut and brats and Reinhardt’s famous Turkish coffee and some hash browns and rice that he had cooked up to help supplement Jesse’s shitty cooking. He did not remember much what had happened after they had settled down to eat, just remembered Jesse’s beaming face when someone said ‘not bad’ and how Jesse had elbowed him all soft like and whispered if he could get another lesson anytime soon.

He remembered cooking lessons between and after missions, teaching Jesse how to cook everything from simple American food to some of the complex dishes that he could pry from his old mama’s mental cookbook. Reinhardt tried to teach Jesse a few things, but bless his giant golden heart Reinhardt was a poor teacher and the only thing he remembered Jesse retaining was Turkish coffee because he chugged it as much as Angela liked too.

“Oh come on, I stopped myself in time,” Jesse huffed, still frowning at his feet.

“ _Hmm?_ ” He rasped.

“Yer smilin’, mean old cuss laughin’ at my mistakes,” Jesse grumbled.

“ _Oh… heh… I was thinking about how I had to teach you how to cook,_ ” He rasped out, feeling his mouth keep smiling.

“Oh… yeah, I was a pretty hopeless kid, wasn’t I?” Jesse chuckled.

“ _You got better,_ ” He said back, not stopping his grin from getting wider when he realized that Jesse actually had the rhythm down now and was stepping in time with him, like a goddamn natural. “ _And despite all the shit I give you… you grew into a great man._ ”

Jesse fumbled, but thankfully was able to spare his toes. When he looked at the cowboy’s face, he saw that his eyes were all soft.

“…Thanks, Gabe,” McCree muttered.

“ _Your taste in men, fashion and drinking are something to be desired, but still a good man,_ ” He snorted, watching Jesse quickly go from all mushy to embarrassed and flustered in half a second.

“You!” Jesse snapped.

There was an ugly snort of laughter to their side. He looked to Angela first, but she just shook her head and pointed to her side behind a hand. Legolas was hiding his mouth behind his hand and his high and perfect cheekbones were tinted pink.

“…Holy shit I love him,” Jesse breathed.

* * *

The dance lesson got cut short when McCree’s communicator jumped to life and a very loud and very Russian voice demanded to know where he was. McCree fumbled with it for a moment before telling the other end that he would be there ‘faster than a bare foot jackrabbit on a hot greasy griddle in the middle of jeu-lie’ before tipping his hat and quickly making off as such.

“What is a jackrabbit?” Angela asked.

“ _I don’t know, those weird ass rabbits with the big ears, maybe?_ ” He guessed, “ _Maybe those weird taxidermy rabbits with the horns on their heads?_ ”

“Jesse’s Southern idioms often elude me,” Hanzo said flatly.

“ _Now imagine working with that for about eight years,_ ” He quipped.

“The torture,” Hanzo deadpanned.

“ _Speaking off, Legolas,_ ” He said, full on authority mode as he crossed his arms over his chest and stared down at the buff archer. Said archer scowled back at him, still not fond of his nickname apparently, but that was what he got for dressing up like a goddamn history book figure. At least there were still legitimate cowboys so Jesse had an excuse. “ _Jesse’s awful flirting aside, you haven’t actually been mean to him just because he’s crushing on you, have you?_ ”

Hanzo sneered, baring rather sharp and pearly canines, trying to look down at him with disgusting, but with how he was sitting down and how squared up he was, the man ended up just making a bitter face at him down his nose.

“I am not _mean_ to him,” Hanzo snapped briskly.

“ _Really?_ ” He rasped out like a demon.

“He...” Hanzo tried before looking clearly flustered. He wondered what in the hell could have the seeming composed. Hanzo rubbed his face, pinching the bridge of his nose like it was some great annoyance to him. "He engages me in witty banter, so I engage back and we just... sort of..."

" _...you have no idea how to flirt, do you?_ " He asked. " _Oh holy hell, a man in his thirties that can't fucking flirt. I can't fix the inability to flirt._ "

Hanzo pinked and scowled darkly at him, but did not admit that it was wrong or right, so he assumed that he was right. He buried his face in his hands as Angela hid her giggles behind her hands. What was he gong to do with a romantically helpless man in his mid thirties pinning after a man that he still considered his son? Well he knew that McCree certainly liked Hanzo and it seemed Hanzo liked McCree so... what would any sensible man do?

" _Alright archer, this old soldier is going to teach you a few tricks,_ " He grunted out, " _First... talking to them usually solves a lot of problems. Talk to the asshole about this and I can guarantee that you'll both be happier in the end. I have a feeling that this 'banter' is mutual._ "

He almost let out a 'too cute' noise when Hanzo perked up. Just how long were these assholes witlessly pinning after one another because both were too chicken shit to say something to one another? Probably for a while now... which would probably mean that he needed to get on this asap before they hit that 'tragic' patch where they just sort of helplessly orbited around one another before breaking apart and moping about it for months before sadly moving on. He never thought he would set his son up with someone, but as far as someones went, at least it was apart that they liked each other.

" _Alright, I'm going to teach you a number of quick tricks to Jesse's heart, listen up and oh, since you're here. Break his heart and I break you, archer._ "

After telling Hanzo a number of things and then shooing the eager and determination filled man out of the room, he turned back to Angela and saw her gaping at him.

" _What?_ " He asked.

"Nothing, I think you just saved us a couple months of their angst is all, my thanks."

* * *

The rest of the afternoon passed rather dull like, for the most part.

There was a scary moment when his heart stopped and a defibrillator did nothing but force an attack that took time to get back because of his electrically charged atoms. But they got him back together and Angela hit him with some concentrated healing and everything returned to mostly normal. Hurt like hell and he ended up taking a miserable pain nap, but he was mostly back to his normal.

After Angela disappeared to eat something, she appeared with a news article pulled up on the holo screen of her handheld and a blank look on her face.

“I thought… you would want to see this,”

The title read ‘Underground leak: The Mysterious Reaper KIA’. The article went on to say that new of the infamous Reaper had been KIA. The actual leak had been vague on the details, but there were whispers of Talon officially declaring him dead. Maybe he had been MIA too long for their taste.

“ _Hmm,_ ” He mused, “ _If it’s bait, its poor._ ”

“True… how do you feel?”

“ _Hmm?_ ”

“Your persona Reaper is dead and the world is ready to bury you… are you feeling well?” Angela asked with that genuine worry of hers.

“… _I’ve been ‘dead’ for a long time, Angela,_ ” He finally said, “ _In more ways than one. Now that the world can finally celebrate Reaper being dead, this maybe my chance to live for the first time in years._ ”

Angela offered him a warm smile.

“That is a good way of looking at it.”

“OI! SHEILA!”

Angela’s expression came crashing down and she ended up throwing a rather venomous look at the door to her main clinic.

“Those boys,” She growled.

“ _Those boys?_ ” He asked as she got up.

“…Well, I suppose that it is a good time as any,” She said dryly, going over to open the door before beckoning whomever was in her clinic over, “Mister Jamison, Mister Roadhog, over here. I am with a patient at the moment but I can see to you too.”

Wait… Roadhog… Roadhog as in that mountain of a man with that terrifying hook? That meant that this Jamison was that squirrelly Australian beanpole with a bomb fetish. As in those two wanted world renowned criminals that last he checked has over a forty million dollar bounty on their heads and a laundry list of criminal acts that would guarantee lethal injection if they could be caught long enough to give it.

“There ya are,” Junkrat cheered, all yellowed teeth as he leaned in the doorway. Just behind him he caught part of Roadhog’s pig tattoo, “Evenin’ Sheila!”

Angela put on her best smile, but it was tired and worn and sagging in the middle.

“Good evening Mister Fawkes, how may I help you?”

“Was wonderin’ if I could trouble ya fer ah… who’s that?”

“My other patient,” Angela smiled, “His name is Gabriel.”

“…Holy shit, are those teeth comin’ out of his cheeks?” Junkrat asked, skittering in like his name sake and leaning over the edge of his bed to look at him, “Oi, Roadie! Lookit! He’s got teeth comin’ out of his skin all over!”

The mountain ducked in the door way enough that the pig-like mask was visible. Nothing could be seen behind those dark lenses, but the big man’s heavy wheezing filled in enough for that. If the man was evening looking was unknown.

“Like I said, Gabriel is a patient of mine, I am currently trying to see if I can resolve this problem,” Angela explained as Junkrat looked intently at all the teeth and closed mouths that had formed all along his legs.

“Kinda reminds me of that one ugly bastard,” Junkrat giggled, grinned pulled back enough that he could make out a gold capped tooth in his maw, “Back home, remember Roadie? That one with all those monster teeth he shoved into his gums. What was his name?”

“…Chomper,” Roadhog rumbled, deep voice sounding rather annoyed that Junkrat seemed solely focused on his weird body.

“Right! Ol’ Chomper! All these weird teeth just crammed inta his maw, couldn’t bite without losin’ one ‘em,” Junkrat said as Roadhog growled with annoyance and eased his giant body through the door and Angela went to her notes. There was no chair big enough to seat the mountain, so they turned the bed around and lowered it enough to serve as some sort of seat as he sat on the counter and Junkrat babbled on.

Somehow the man went from teeth to metal teeth he wanted if he lost anymore of his, apparently he wanted ‘big ol’ chompers like Chomper’. Angela made a quip that if he kept drinking that extra sugary tea of his and did not brush his teeth more often, then that dream would soon become reality. Junkrat quickly ducked the topic by talking about his favorite types of boba tea that he liked and the Junker seemed to take it personally when he had said that he never had any.

“Mate, how could you not?!” Junkrat yelped like he had been scorched.

“ _Never really had a taste for tea,_ ” He rasped out.

“Mate,” Junkrat wheezed.

Then there was a discussion about the best kind of boba tea, Junkrat was adamant that it was milk tea, half sweet. Angela said that she preferred the stronger black tea with a bit of lemon, preferring something with a much stronger and less sweet taste. Roadhog, where pestered enough by his boss, said that he was fine with whatever Junkrat had to share.

Junkrat got mushy over the big man for a bit and then it struck him about why he was in the clinic to begin with.

“Oh! Right! Do ya have frangers, Sheila?” Junkrat asked.

“Uh… perhaps,” Angela said, “Dare I ask what size?”

“I dunno, Roadie’s about this big,” Junkrat said, holding his hands enough apart that he about gagged on his spit.

“…I will… have to check,” Angela said, having clearly paled before she stood and went into her main clinic

“Thanks!’ Junkrat grinned.

How the hell…

“Rat,” Roadhog sighed, sounding more like distant thunder than a man.

“What? Yer the one that said it’d you wanted frangers cause ‘it’s not a good idear to go barebacking in me lower bits all the time’, right?” Junkrat said, “Hey, hey! Oi! Why the fuck are you two laughin’ at me? What’s so damn funny?”

That was what Angela came back too, Roadhog and himself wheezing with laughter while Junkrat demanded to know what was funny. Each time he tried to explain it he just ended up laughing a bit harder until black stained tears rolled down his eyes and Roadhog ended up having to puff some of his hogdrogon because he literally gave himself an asthma attack laughing so hard. Even when the two junkers has been given their condoms and shooed out of the room, he still found it hard to catch his breath and eventually Angela just rolled her eyes and threw up her hands.

“Honestly! I’m surrounded by children, what’s so funny?”

“ _They were…the boys from the Outback were bare backing it,_ ” He giggled.

He got his ears tweaked for that.

* * *

A quiet afternoon turned into an even quieter night. Angela wished him well before disappearing for the night, likely to find Fareeha for a night. McCree came in as she left, jumped right up to him and squeezed him tight as he said ‘love you, asshole,’ before just as quickly running out. Lena jumped in for a bit, she wanted to make her girlfriend something for this ‘Emily’s’ upcoming birthday so he taught Lena a few basic sewing skills to get her started, telling her that if she came back a bit earlier in the day he could teach her a bit more.

After his hit the lights and his head hit the pillow, he was out cold.

When he dreamed of Jack visiting him, of those dream hands kept thumbing over the pulse point in his wrist. They were looking out a window and admiring the moon overhead and the stars unhindered by any clouds. Almost romantic if it were not so damn cloud out, they bumped and rubbed arms and shoulders to try and warm themselves.

_I’ve been dead for a long time, Jack, a really long time._

_You’re too stubborn to die, Gabe. If an explosion can’t kill you, then Talon ‘calling’ you dead can’t kill you either._

The calloused pad of Jack’s thumb rubbed along the inside of his wrist slowly, lovingly.

_Well, I always did call myself an asshole for a reason. Stubbornness comes with the title._

_You weren’t stubborn, you hardened yourself and acted stubborn…. Because…_

There were lips that just barely brushed against his ear, the side of his face, against the material of the hoodie on his shoulder.

_Because of that shit with the promotion._

_Yeah._

Jack leaned into him.

_I’m sorry._

_I’m sorry too._

The moon was full tonight. There was the distant sounds of an ocean and some sky rats screaming in the dead of night. That calloused thumb kept brushing against his pulse point, rubbing circles around and over it. Eventually it got warm between them, he realized that the bare skin of Jack’s arm was rubbing against his hoodie covered arm and wondered briefly where that tacky ass jacket he had given the old soldier was at.

_I met the Junkers today._

_How’d that go?_

He snorted with laughter before he went on to tell Jack the story.


	10. Conspiracies and Pizza Nights

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Mild Fareeha/Angela, McCree/Hanzo, mild body horror, mentioned to past Jack/Gabe
> 
> Nev is busy with some IRL stuff, so I'm filling in this chap. I would like to thank everyone who has left kudos, comments, subcribed and bookmarked so far you guys are awesome and thanks to everyone who's held me find mistakes and such you are awesome too. This chapter we've actually found some semblance of plot, thanks for sticking with us so far.c
> 
> UPDATE: Jan/12/2017: Reworded a sentence to hopefully be more clear
> 
> Written by Muse Six

Back in the old days, before even the Omnic Crisis, his knees had been going out on him. Too many days of football, too many scuffs with his siblings, too many rough tumbles and then finally the super soldier program and the rigorous experiments and exercising did him in. Some days his kneecaps throbbed painfully and the muscles burned almost white hot with the pain, some days he barely got half a dozen steps in before they swelled bright red. Braces helped to an extent, but Angela was always telling him that he needed a specialized doctor to look at them.

When Blackwatch finally rolled around, his age was catching up with him as well as the many injuries of his past and present. Pain was a constant though unwelcomed companion of his. His knees, the ribs that he had broken, the knuckles that had been broken, his trigger fingers from repetitive motion injuries, constant stress and anxiety headaches and migraines and during the last few days of Blackwatch there were the aches and pains of his suicidal depression.

Pain cut into him deep, almost every waking minute of the day. It cut his sleeping hours down to at most six hours a day and made moving agonizing, so he slept little and only moved when necessary. When not on missions he often sat at his desk, in some desperately padded and heated chair and tried to focus on paperwork until the pain became too much or stood still like a statue to oversee his operatives’ work and training.

Sometimes he would go to Angela to for something for the pain, but at one point nothing over the counter helped and being leader of Blackwatch meant that he and everything he did was under a goddamn microscope. The last few months some of the higher ups started to spread rumors that he was crumbling under the work, ‘unlike their star boy Jackie’ and he only remembered hardening into steel. Blackwatch he could run in his sleep, it ran smoother then Overwatch even on his worst days. He would not let the people that had reduced him and dehumanized him into the crippling ‘the criminal Mexican thug’ instead of the 'the L.A born and raised hero of the Omnic Crisis' to break him down mentally and say that he could not do his damn unwanted job.

Pain was his only friend until the blast and afterwards he felt like he was the embodiment of pain itself. The ability to break apart on a molecular level came with chronic and bone deep pain. Sometimes he could not move because the pain had become so bad. Sometimes he puked up black hellish liquid, sometimes he would all concentration and break apart because the pain almost seemed too replace him.

Even with Angela trying to stop his cells rapid decay and regeneration, pain seemed to haunt him. It had been second in his mind, there but forgotten in the face of his little whirlwind adventure so far. It did no really surprise him when it over came him one day, biting deep into the tissue and leaving him almost breathlessly, helpless but to lay in his miserable little bed with the covers pulled over his head and helpless but to only moan in pain when it throbbed throughout him.

“Are you sure you do not want anything, Gabriel?” Angela asked again.

He only burrowed deeper underneath the blankets, gritting his teeth as pain prickled along all his nerves. One mouth full of jagged teeth that had formed along his shin gnawed at the covers when a particularly pointed pain chewed along his hip bone.

“Poor Gabe,” Lena sighed somewhere off to his left.

“ _Verdammt_ , if only I could grasp his condition better,” Angela sighed.

“You could always ask Mei, ain’t she super smart or something?” Lena suggested.

“Hmm…I could though how do you think she will react to Gabriel?”

Mei… Mei… Mei was the eco-scientist that was cryogenically frozen if he remembered his conversations from Genji right. Giant ray of sunshine if he remembered that right too, someone he honestly did not feel like dealing with.

He groaned again as pain tore up and down his spine, akin to nails deep in his nerves.

“Maybe not the best idea, and Ms. Mei-Ling Zhou is a climatologist. As smart as she is, her focus is more on climates changes and how they affect eco systems as a whole rather than individual organisms,”

“The only other smart person we know is Winston,”

“And he _**will not**_ be learning of Gabriel until the time is right.”

“Well… ‘ows about another healer then?”

“Hmm… well it certainly could not hurt… Gabriel?”

He just groaned.

* * *

Audio medic… seemed just as ridiculous as a sniper medic when it came down to brass-tacks. Sure, music could be powerful but powerful enough to actually heal? Or invigorate someone that they moved faster? It seemed almost silly in concept if he had not seen Lúcio in action, seen Overwatch’s heroes boosted by his music move and act faster in the heat of battle. Once seen a rupturing meka go zooming within a hair’s breadth of him after being shot with Lúcio’s music.

Genji mentioned something about him being a freedom fighter, down in Brazil. Also bit of a music prodigy, based on Genji’s fanboying, apparently his album was going platinum here soon. Genji had mentioned that Lúcio was a ‘good and pure soul’ and was generally friendly. He had to wonder exactly how friendly this man was.

When Lúcio wheeled himself in a rather personalized wheelchair, he was almost startled by just how tiny he was, could barely be above five feet and without his prosthetics on his legs he just seemed… small. Honestly there seemed more of his equipment strapped to the back of his wheelchair and sitting in his lap then the man himself.

“Hey doc!” Lúcio grinned. The dreadlocks with the small speakers had been undone, instead just tied at the base of his neck with a black hair tie.

“Good morning, Mister Corriea dos Santos,” Angela smiled.

“Heeey, Tracer! How’s it going?” Lúcio grinned as Lena waved from where she was awkwardly laid out in her chair.

“Hey Lúcio!” Lena chimed.

“And hey… um… sorry I don’t know your name,” Lúcio smiled at him.

“… _Gabriel,_ ” He rasped out.

He was still in some rather intense pain, curled up in the blankets like a pissed off burrito cat. As far as Lúcio could see were just his eyes and the poof of black curls on top of his head.

“Hey Gabriel!” Lúcio grinned, “Doc said to grab my stuff and come here, what’s up doc?”

Lena giggled as Angela sighed.

“I had need of your unique way of healing with a difficult case, namely Gabriel here,” Angela started, rifling through the contents of the counter and pulling out several sheets of papers, “And I would like to mention by helping me, you’re agreeing to patient confidentiality, especially in Gabriel’s unique case. Not a word leaves the room.”

“No problem doc, what can I help you and Gabe here out?”

“Gabriel here has a unique condition where his cells rapidly decay and regenerate, resulting in a pseudo dead state,” Angela began with the clinical edge of a emotionally distant doctor, scrutinizing her notes, “Think Schrödinger’s cat. Now, a lapse in this cycle, say the cells start decaying faster than the regeneration can catch up results in a more ‘dead’ like state, lowered body temperature, organs in a dormant like state or dead state, as well as lapse in abilities.”

Lúcio had been paying adamant attention, fiddling with a large, sleek looking machine in his lap while he did so; when Angela mentioned his abilities Lúcio’s eyebrow quirked up “Uh, abilities?”

“Gabriel?” Angela asked.

With a groan, too tired and in too much pain for this shit, he wraith formed out from underneath his blankets and reformed next to Angela, hands in his hoodie pocket as he looked at the audio medic. Said man’s eyes opened wide as the gears churned round and round in his head.

“R-r-reaper?” Lúcio sputtered.

“Lúcio wait, he’s on… well… he’ not a bad guy anymore!” Lena said, blinking in between them, “He’s been here a week and done nothing. He’s ‘ardly left his room!”

Lúcio quickly wheeled back, putting distance between them, gaping at him.

“Wait… he’s been here a week? A week and you’ve done nothing?” Lúcio asked.

He shrugged, really wanting to curl up back in bed. Everything felt overstretched and overused, nerves prickly like hot needles against his skin. His knees already felt kicked in too, damn it. He may have only been fifty six, but he really was too fucking old for this shit.

“ _I’m tired,_ ” He rasped out, “ _I just… gave up…_ ”

When he said this, Lúcio’s horrified look softened to a ‘Oh…’ look. His fingers nervously drummed along the wheels of his chair as he looked at the three of them standing there, Angela leaned towards him, hands on his arm and Lena still standing in front of him like a shield. Lúcio drummed his fingers in a rhythmic fashion, almost like a nervous twitch.

“I guess bad guys are still people too,” Lúcio finally relented.

“Not a bad guy anymore!” Lena corrected.

“Well… I guess if you’ve got both Doc and Tracer on your side… I’m willing to give you a chance,” Lúcio said firmly, nodding his head to affirm himself further, “Right Reaps?”

For the love of…

He wraith-formed underneath his blankets and just groaned in pain as the light was blocked out.

“Sorry, Gabe is havin’ a bad pain day,” Lena explained as he heard Lúcio move to his right side.

“Yeah, sometimes get those with my legs, I feel ya,” Lúcio said, thumping his bed.

“Like I was saying before, Gabriel suffers from rapid cell decay and regeneration. More rapid cell decay results in a more death like state and a loss of control over his abilities. However I have been able to move this cycle to have more of a regeneration side, replacing dead cells and promoting a more ‘alive’ like state. He even has a heart beat again.”

Angela and Lúcio talked for some time, mostly healing techniques that could be used. Lúcio suggested that he set up a sort of white noise machine that used the same tech that his suit in battle did that kept the team healed up in battle. Angela countered with too much healing might cause his attacks, taking a moment to explain them, and might reverse the healing process if it stressed his body too much.

“Hey! I just thought of something! Back in a tic loves!” Lena said at one point.

Lúcio and Angela talked shop for awhile, until McCree and Hanzo entered. He able to tell even hiding underneath the blanket by what McCree said as he came in.

“I'm sayin' if ya want to, just do it, I support ya, darlin'.”

“Hey! If it ain’t Ol’ West and East,” Lúcio greeted, “How’s our resident history LARPers?”

“Lúcio? What in tarnation ‘re you doin’ here?” Jesse asked.

“Helping out Reaps, ain’t that right?”

He groaned underneath the blanket, so not in the mood for this.

“Guten tag you two, dare I ask what you two were talking about? You two are being safe, not just outside the field but also... closer thing?”

He heard something that sounded like a rather dirty Japanese curse before Hawke-Eye got hushed. With so much company in the room, he went back to being a pissed off burrito cat.

Jesse and Hanzo were talking together and close to each other, like gentle touches even. So it seemed that the two had figured out things then, based on the absolute happiness that was stubbornly etched into McCree's features and the very noticeable softening of Hanzo's usually stoic features. Nothing like finding out that you worked with turned out to be someone you could date-- he needed to stop that train of thought right there and then.

“I do hope you two are going to behave while you’re here,” Angela pointed out.

“Only the best fer you, Angela,” McCree said, batting his eyes and giving her a charismatic grin.

“Careful McCree, your hickies are showing,” Angela said dryly, making McCree’s hands come up to hide the sides of his neck as his cheeks lit up.

“So I see you two knew about Reaps,” Lúcio pointed out.

“Sorry, but we have already told a rather large number of operatives about him,” Angela said softly, “Lena, Ana, Torbjörn, Reinhardt, those troublesome Junker boys, Genji and Master Zenyetta, _these two_ ,” Angela said, making sure to shoot ‘Ol’ West and East’ a dirty look, “And now you.”

“Well, I guess I ain’t last on the list,” Lúcio grinned.

“That spot is reserved for Winston,” Angela said tiredly.

“Man, how many times have you tried killing him?” Lúcio chuckled.

“ _Many, but twice it really pissed him off,_ ” He grumbled from within his blanket burrito.

“You did try to take out Athena,” Angela pointed out, “And destroy Doomfist’s gauntlet.”

“ _First was to get information on Overwatch operatives before they could be recalled, spectacular failure if you saw and now are all here to witness,_ ” He grumbled, “ _The second time was to make sure that if Doomfist did come back and happened to side with Overwatch, that whomever would take the damned thing wouldn’t have it._ ”

“…Ya know, you and Talon and them are kinda awful villains,” McCree said.

“ _No shit, and here I thought I taught you to be perceptive,_ ” He drawled out, only to groan as another nasty wave of pain hit him.

“Bad pain day?” McCree said quickly.

“You know?” Angela asked.

“Yeah, I knew him way back when, remember Angela?” McCree said, “Back then we’d git ‘im heating pads cause they seemed ta be the only thing that helped.”

“Here I am!” Lena said, blinking in, carrying a rather large and thick blanket.

Lena came bearing a rather lovely gift. A large heating blanket that he may or may not have eagerly wrapped himself in before setting it on high. When the heat sunk in, the pain gently ebbed and he was surrounded in blissful heat.

“He still looks like a rather annoyed cat,” Hanzo noted.

“ _Fuck you, Hunger Games wannabe_ ,” He sighed blissfully.

Hanzo stared in confusion as everyone else cracked up.

* * *

The heating blanket was his and he was not willing to give it up. He practically melted underneath the blessed thing and eventually did end up pleasantly passing out underneath the warm and pleasant weight, blissfully free of both dreams and pain. When he woke up, Hanzo, McCree and Lena were gone, though Lúcio and Angela were still talking.

From what he gleaned as he stretched out underneath the heating blanket, Lúcio had a theory that a certain frequency could help promote his healing process in short bursts and could be used during his treatments to prevent sudden flare ups of cell decay. Angela seemed intrigued and was watching Lúcio turn the thing in his lap, apparently a portable DJ booth, listening to something in a rather large and decked out pair of DJ headphones.

“ _As long as you don’t play heavy metal or Linkin Park as a joke,_ ” He said, subtly informing them that he was conscious again, “ _Can’t stand either of them._ ”

“What’s Linkin Park?” Lúcio asked, seeming rather perturbed that he did not know a band. But after a quick search on Angela’s hand held seemed to sooth his soul, declaring that ‘the joke’s there but even he wouldn’t sink that low’.

“But you do seem like the heavy metal guy,” Lúcio joked, one headphone on and the other off, hands still tinkering with the equipment as he quipped, “What with the whole barn owl mask and everything.”

“ _If I wanted to be screamed at, I would have reported for duty_ ,”

“A sense of humor! So you don’t learn just one something new a day,” Lúcio laughed.

“You always did like acoustic,” Angela sighed wistfully, “I always did enjoy the music you played for your recruits during training. It was always so pleasant to listen too, especially with Jack’s ‘tacky’ American bands always blasting away.”

“Ha! The old man likes ‘tacky’ music? What’d he listen too?”

“All this horrendous pop music! You would think that he listened to nothing but ‘Top 100’ song lists!” Angela said, “But not only that, but ‘popular’ Country music too, all these awful songs about getting drunk, cheating on women and wooing over trucks like they were women, it was awful!”

“I wonder if he still listens to that stuff,” Lúcio chuckled, “When he’s not being so stiff and boring.”

“Who knows anymore,” Angela said, “He’s so secretive and keeps to himself, especially recently.”

“I heard,” Lúcio said, dropping his voice like someone could eavesdrop on them at any time, “From Mei, she happened to walk by his room and he was muttering all this crazy stuff. Something about trails going cold and stuff like that. The door was open, she said, so she looked in and he had all this stuff taped and pinned to his walls with all those red lines? Like conspiracy theorists?”

He wondered what Jack was thinking about, holed up in his room like a raving nut job. He wondered if maybe the old asshole was wondering if he was actually dead or not, about the explosion, about all the shady deals that buried the first Overwatch and maybe watching this new one to make sure it did not kill itself from the shadows like gods passed.

 _You never did know when to just let things die, did you?_ He thought bitterly.

“Ugh, he’s still probably not getting enough sleep,” Angela tisked, “Maybe I should drop a hint the next I see him. That would be… oh goodness! The time Lúcio! We’re going to be late for dinner!”

“Who’s cooking?” Lúcio asked as he hurriedly fiddled with his equipment

“I believe the brothers are? They had written their names on the cooking schedule at least so we might be ordering something if they skipped out…”

“Do you think that either of them learned to cook since they grew up rich?” Lúcio chuckled, “Hey Reaps, do you want us to bring you back a plate?”

“Gabriel doesn’t eat,” Angela pointed out.

“ _I’d be willing to try,_ ” He said, “ _What’s the worst that can happen?_ ”

“Oh, please don’t say that,” Angela groaned heavily, rubbing her temples, “I’m going to go find the kitchen on fire or everyone’s going to get food poisoning or something.”

“Don’t worry about it doc, and I’ll be sure to sneak you back something Reaps!” Lúcio grinned as Angela held the door opened for him, giving him a harsh reminder in her native tongue to behave himself before leaving and closing the door behind her.

He barely got a trip to the bathroom to spit excess teeth and nasty black spit out and take a piss when they came back with several pizza boxes, Fareeha and a young Korean.

“The kitchen was on fire,” Angela almost whimpered, fingertips digging into her throbbing temples, “Jesse, Hanzo, Genji and Master Zenyetta were cleaning up the mess when we got there. As it turned out, Jesse and Hanzo were fooling around, a hair ribbon caught some cooking oil and then some fire and well… you can probably guess the rest.”

“But hey, dinner and a friend!” Lúcio grinned, waving to the new person, “Reaps, this is Hana, or D. Va!”

Hana was the meka operator and a very dedicated soldier to her country despite the young age. She had greeted him with a rather old meme and he had responded with a just as old one and immediately won her over. Apparently she had admired what he did during the Omnic Crisis and could forgive him if he respected that she outranked him now and there would be no ‘Sir’s unless they were addressing her, harmed no one on base, respected her despite her age and would regale her with a few of the Omnic Crisis stories.

“People like to forget that I’ve been training and fighting most my life,” Hana said between bites of pizza, “I’m a kid but I’m not just any kid.”

“ _You’re a kid in Meka,_ ” He said, absently chewing.

His organs shifted palpably in his abdomen and his stomach made a weird noise as he ate, but after a solid fifteen minutes of not throwing up hellish black goo he gave himself the all clear for eating normal foods again. Man, first meal in over a decade and it was delicious greasy pizza. Coupled with his heating blanket and he was having a goddamn blast.

“Hana’s a legend in the gaming world,” Lúcio quickly piped in as Angela and Fareeha spoke quietly to themselves, “She’s got top scores in everything! Her streams get a million viewers easy!”

“ _Oh right, you stream battles, right?_ ” He said, remembering something from his talks with Genji, “ _Probably caught some of my less then shining moments._ ”

“Actually not really,” Hana said, “You usually ‘Go Ghost’ too quick for most anyone to react. You’re a cryptid on the internet though. I’ve got a stream icon of a blurry image of your mask if anyone thinks they found you, even got a bot operated counter for it.”

Oh god, he was a meme.

“No, mostly I get a lot of footage of McCree’s goofs, Ana’s general epic-ness, ‘I’m not paid enough’ for this Mercy clips, Sass Zenyetta and a few bits of footage of Tracer and Widowmaker clashing,” Hana said, claiming a napkin from Lúcio’s grip to scrub her neat mouth, not smudging her impeccable pink lip gloss.

“ _…Why Lena and Amelia?_ ” He asked.

“The internet ships them,” Hana said as though it were obvious.

“ _Ships?_ ” He dared ask.

“Yeah, they think that they would do good in a relationship,” Hana said.

“ _Well, I’m pretty sure they were a thing until a few months ago and DON’T YOU DARE TELL LENA THAT,_ ” He said to Hana’s growing devil’s grin, “ _You’ll fuck up what Lena and Emily have over nothing!_ ”

To quell Hana, and the hand she had hovering over her comm device, he had to tell about the few intercepted comm channel messages and the few times he had seen them disappear together during battle. He also told them how she was sure that Widow was the girl that Lena was seeing during the original Overwatch days before everything went to shit. Hana seemed mildly appeased with the information.

“Half the stuff your stream comes up with is wild,” Lúcio laughed as he ground his teeth tiredly and absently chewed, “What was that you were telling me the other day?”

“What? The Reaper and Soldier 76 ship?” Hana asked.

“ _Well that was a thing- DAMN IT KEEP YOUR LITTLE HAND AWAY FROM THAT THING!_ ”

Unlike anyone else, Hana was completely unfazed by his gruesome visage, hands hovering over her comm device until he gave the little pink decorated demon what she wanted and gave a rather watered down and quick spiel about his and Jack’s relationship. Yes, they were together, yes there was kissing and hand holding and dating and all that mushy stuff, no there was no sex they never got that far and oh god no it would not work presently.

“Shame, you two actually seem like you’d get along, even now,” Hana grinned as he fumed black smoke out his many mouths and primary mouth, “Two old soldiers that like to snip and snap and keep to yourselves.”

“ _Jack despises me now,_ ” He grumbled, feeling his elated mood drop like a rock, “ _I took Overwatch from him, took most of his sight, probably tore up that pretty face of his and have generally been making his life hell._ ”

“Maybe that you’re not a bad guy anymore? Grandpa seems like he needs someone to remind him of stuff all the time, like eating and sleeping, and could use something other than those creeper boards of his to look at,”

“ _Who wants to look at this ugly mug?_ ”

“I don’t know, you kinda look like you belong in Dark Souls, maybe Bloodborne,”

When he mentioned not knowing what in the hell those were, Hana acted like it was a personal offense before running and grabbing an sleek gaming console from her room. After only a minute of setting up the holo-screen, they all got to watch as she taught him about ‘good old fashioned retro video games,’ and how to properly be a badass at them. 

Part way into the slaughter of some rather grotesque creatures in a rather dark and macabre world, the Junkers came by. Apparently Junkrat had remembered their boba-tea talk and had brought him a tall drink of his favorite. Long story short, Junkrat got really excited to see that Hana could blow up stuff in her game and insisted on watching, grabbing one of the seats and claiming it. Roadhog, not wanting to leave his boss unattended, especially since he still had explosives strapped to his thin waist, once again claimed the bed as a seat. With so many people in the room, Angela and Fareeha excused themselves as he sat on the floor with his heating blanket and tried to question why playing a video that was so hard was enjoyable and Hana’s only response was ‘Git gud’.

Sipping on tea, which he had to admit was pretty good, even the little edible beads at the bottom whatever they were, he spent the rest of the evening like that. Their little odd ball group spent the hours watching Hana play her game with Lúcio and Junkrat commentating, Roadhog being a silent presence and sometimes catching the soft whispers of Angela and Fareeha talking in the main clinic. 

Even with clean up and Hana vowing to get him on every current social media platform, even after he lay down to rest and swore he smelled distant napalm, pizza grease and the distant chemical smell of hogdrogon, he had to admit it was a pretty great night. 

“We will be doing your treatment tomorrow night, alright Gabriel?” Angela said before she hit the lights for him.

“ _Alright,_ ” He yawned before darkness took the room and his tired mind slept.

* * *

Jack’s door was open, so she took it upon herself to look in. Surely enough the old man was hunched over his cluttered desk, hands skimming some Braille printed paper. His mask was set off to the side and the visor deactivated for the evening. Probably wore his eyes out using it so much and was now wearing them further by pushing himself too far.

“Jack,” Angela said to the man furiously muttering to himself, “You need sleep.”

“I don’t need anything,” Jack snipped.

“You’re fifty five, you need a lot of things,” She snapped right back, “Like a hobby. You’re killing yourself like this, Jack. What could you possibly be researching now?”

“…Talon is looking for Reaper, they set out those leaks,” Jack growled out, “They’re really trying to find him, see who reacts and who doesn’t. They want to find him.”

“Or maybe he is dead,” Angela sighed, “Reaper was a terrorist after all, maybe someone killed him.”

“A man like Reaper doesn’t just get killed,” Jack suddenly rumbled like thunder, “And they’re planning something big, Mercy. They’re moving, I think they think they know where he is. They’re going to send their best to hit hard, fast and precisely.”

She tisked and frowned at the ass of a man. She wondered if the Jack Morrison she knew really was different, the one that drew Gabriel’s eye and made him swoon, still did. Even if Gabriel was hell bent on saying Jack hated him now, she swore that Gabriel still had feelings for Jack and perhaps wished that Jack still felt something for him in turn. Two old fools, at least one was trying to fix his life now.

“I will get Ana,” She threatened.

“Did you know that Talon set those explosives?” Jack suddenly asked, hands stopped as he almost reverently brushed his fingers along a page, “The ones that killed Gabe and me?”

Of course she knew, but that would be telling Jack that she knew that Gabriel was alive and mostly well. Instead she made a well acted out surprised sound instead.

“No, I thought that the fighting between you and Gabriel destroyed the building?”

“No… there never really was any fighting,” Jack said quietly, head bent. She could not help but notice that leather jacket of his was slung over his chair. “No, there was a lot of me trying to get to Gabe and not knowing and not saying the right things. Did you know I had to physically track him down to the Swiss base? He had been ignoring me for months… the last time we spoke he broke jaw. I was trying to talk to him… get through and he kept trying to get me to leave the building. I thought for the longest time he was trying to get me to leave him alone… he was trying to get me to leave the building.”

She chanced it and walked in, making her steps known. When she settled her hands on Jack’s shoulders he did not flinch, but he ducked his head more. The broad back felt stiff and unsure at the same time underneath her hands as she tried to find some way to comfort him.

“Talon set the charges, set them up to cause a mess but not something that could actually harm anyone unless they were standing directly on one… he was trying… he was trying to kill himself, Angie,”

She knew that, but she still wrapped her arms around him and squeezed tight. It still hurt, to think of her friends’ suffering that should have been so obvious that she so clearly missed, still hurt to hear how Gabriel wanted to end it all and had stood on a bomb of all things.

“He wanted to end it and he was trying to get me out of the fire like he always seemed to do… bastard…”

“You… Jack,” She tried.

“Gabe tried getting help seven times, Angie,” Jack said, “He filed for psychiatric help seven times and was denied all seven times. Seven times he called for help and got shut down. They wanted to fire him from Blackwatch, ‘mental instability’, dishonorable discharge if they could help it… They tried so hard to put the weight of the world on his shoulders and then blame him when he started to crumble.”

This definitely needed to be mentioned to Gabriel when she had the chance. He needed to know this… maybe… she did not know anymore. Why dreg up a terrible past that only made it worse?

“You need sleep,” She said firmly, against his spine.

“I need answers, Mercy,” Jack said, “I’ll sleep when I’m dead.”

“That’s it, I’m getting Ana, if you’re not in bed when I get back with her I’ll have her double dose you,”


	11. I'm On My Way Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Slight Angela Ziegler/Fareeha Amari, slight Jesse McCree/Hanzo Shimada, mentioned Gabriel Reyes/Jack Morrison, mentioned gore
> 
> Hello pups, I would like to once again thank everyone for your kind comments, kudos, subscriptions, bookmarks and so on. I would also like to thank everyone to helps me and Nev find story discrepancies and those that help up correct misinformation.
> 
> I would also like to broach a subject. We are well aware of the rampant and widespread racism in the Overwatch fandom and we have taken great care to try to catch and correct ourselves, especially since both Nev and myself have come from extremely racist families and upbringings that we've been trying to unteach ourselves. If you see something that has managed to slip past us, I implore you to point this out so we can correct ourselves. If you are uncomfortable leaving a comment that others can see, you can send an anon to http://skeleyking.tumblr.com/, my personal tumblr, I will never publish it and will only edit the notes to make note that a change has been made.
> 
> Have a good morning, afternoon, evening and night everyone
> 
> Written by Nev, edited by Six
> 
> JAN-17-2017: A mass of typos, grammar, rewording and mass editing

“He’s a lot more nimble then you would think, it actually took Ana a few times to hit him, but she double dosed him like he needed,” Angela said as he helped her stash the large heating blanket inside the cupboard below the counter, “He should be out cold for most of the day.”

He chuckled at the thought of Jack trying to parkour to avoid Ana's sleep darts. The old cuss hated shots when they were young, so he could only imagine what bitterness and old age had done to that hatred of shots. Not to mention, it might have been just a little funny to think of Jack, old and silvered with age, trying to outmaneuver a just as aged and silvered Ana.

Lena zipped in to claim the sheets off the bed before dashing right back out, taking a silver dollar turn around McCree as he strolled in, giving the cleaned out room a once over before that heavy brow scrunched in confusion.

“I realize he’s an asshole, but why‘re you kickin’ Gabe out?” McCree asked.

“I am not kicking Gabriel out,” Angela snipped reaching over to snatch the unlit cigarillo from McCree’s mouth, snapping it in half and tossing it in the rubbish bin, “However the incident the other day has apparently been worrying Winston and he’s getting some outside help to sweep the building, inspecting _every_ inch of the building. So I need to clean this room out, remove every trace of Gabriel and then find somewhere to hide him until Winston is satisfied that there’s no one hiding in the building.”

Angela had hurriedly woken him that morning, telling him of what Winston was planning. He had agreed that it was best that he leave the building until the head scientist was sure that there was no intruder, either physical or cyber based, was lingering in his headquarters. Where he was going to hide was still a manner of debate and worry, but first they needed to make sure that Angela’s little private medical room was free of any of his lingering presence.

“Where ya gonna keep ‘im?” McCree asked, quickly stepping to the side when Lena dashed in to claim the chair cushions and run out again.

“I do not know,” Angela sighed, “I’m trying to think of something as we clean.”

“On your six!” Lena chimed, making McCree once again side step to avoid getting body checked by the slim runner as she claimed the other chair cushions, “Oh, Winston was saying that it was fine to leave the building, even kinda encouraged it. So one of us could just take ol’ Gabe with us? Maybe?”

“ _But who wants to do that?_ ” He sighed as Angela slipped all his sewing things into the cupboard, tucked to the side as though placed there intentionally and pushed to the side with the passing time.

“…Well it would need ta be with someone that leavin’ wouldn’t be weird,” McCree said.

“Well that rules me out,” Angela sighed, “I am, sadly, more wed to my work then my girlfriend. Winston would think it odd that I leave the building, even if it were with Fareeha.”

“I could take him with me to be with Emily, she’s known about Overwatch… but Winston knows where we live and it’s not secure…” Lena muttered, pondering.

“Well… I could take you with me,” McCree offered, scratching at his beard and avoiding eye contact, “Been meanin’ to visit the folks again, especially to show Han ta ‘em. Could tell ‘em yer from work, they know ‘bout Overwatch ‘nd that…”

“ _Well aren’t you the Southern gentlemen? Offering to take me home,_ ” He quipped.

“My folks ‘re in New Mexico, it’s warm,” McCree amended.

“ _…So when are you leaving?_ ” He asked.

* * *

He had not really thought about it, but he was surprised that they were using Winston’s old base of operations in Gibraltar. But he guessed it made sense, since Winston was the one that performed the recall and it had been his base even after Overwatch was broken apart. The scientist had designed and helped build the place, used it for so many years and then used it for his home when his team, his family, had been ripped apart to the four corners of the world.

It was a cool day outside, when they had finally managed to smuggle him through all of Athena’s and outside (after smuggling him further away until he was out of range and sight for the sensors, cameras, drones and scouts). There was a team effort to find him three changes of clothing, all now tucked inside one of McCree’s spare duffle bags as he waited for McCree to get one of the spare civilian cars that Overwatch had tucked into a false hillside.

“ _Nervous?_ ” He asked Hanzo.

He had watched the normally cold and elegant archer fidget and worry over what he was going to bring, what to wear, what to bring and twice had put on a too big and too wide smile for McCree when he asked if the man was alright. Now Hanzo, hair pulled back at to the back of his neck in a way that hid his undercut well and was wearing the heavy punk-eque jacket over baggy jeans with a pair of shoes to hide his metal feet, but he kept pacing or picking at some aspect of his appearance to perfect it.

“No,” Hanzo quickly spat out.

“ _It’s just meeting his parents, McCree is adamant that their ‘nice people’,_ ” He said, trying to be nice.

Hanzo leveled a glare at him, trying to get him to shut up. He just rolled his eyes, only briefly lamenting that he was wearing a surgical mask to hide most of his face to hide the unusual features. He had a pair of sunglasses to hide the upper part of his face and his eyes if they decided to be weird colors, but he honestly did not need them until they hit civilization, which was for the most part, a couple hour drive from Winston’s base.

Speaking of drive, a section of rocky hillside popped out of the hill side and slide out of the way so that a banged up pickup truck with a topper out of a darkened storage area. He saw a few other inconspicuous cars inside before McCree backed up like a jackass during rush hour and the hillside popped back into place. He glared at McCree as he backed up easily and put it in park to let them in.

“What?” McCree asked.

“ _I see that you still can’t drive worth shit, Jesse,_ ” He growled out.

“Hey!” McCree _whined_ , caught.

“Move, I am driving,” Hanzo said.

“Aw, darlin’, yer supposed ta back me up,” McCree pouted as the self proclaimed cowboy claimed shotgun and he himself shuffled himself into the back seat, “And here I thought ya liked me.”

“If the time comes where you _need_ a second voice I will back you,” Hanzo said as he started up the truck, “However, your driving is atrocious and I wish to keep what limbs I do have remaining and make it to and from alive. And I do like you, Jesse.”

The back seat was not made for someone with long legs like him, so he laid out as best he could, ending up pressing his back against the side window to make room for himself. Using his bag to prop his legs, he almost felt comfortable as Hanzo eased forward and started easy like down the road. McCree fiddled with the radio until Hanzo darted out a hand to smack his hand away.

“I will not listen to that terrible country music,”

“Oh fine,” McCree huffed, giving Hanzo a shit eating grin when a horrendous pop song started beating against the speakers.

“Not that either!”

After some fighting, he finally elbowed his way enough into the front seat and flipped through the stations until he found an instrumental station that sometimes took breaks so a gentle voice could tell some local or worldwide news. Both the men agreed and he slumped back to enjoy the gentle music as they chugged down the road in the beat up little pickup.

When they started seeing houses and people, he slipped on his borrowed sunglasses. McCree put his feet up on the dashboard and was reprehended by Hanzo, claiming ‘those old cowman boot stink’ and of course he had to put in a quip about McCree not washing himself again. McCree tired to flatten him by moving his seat back, which he easily stopped with one broad shoulder and even stole the man’s hat and slipped it on over his head. Before the ‘cowman’ could reach around to grab it, Hanzo threatened to walk back and let him go home alone. McCree, arms crossed and pout firmly set in place, sullenly looked out the window as he lounged in the back seat with the cowboy hat on his head.

“How long do you wish us to drive, Jesse?” Hanzo asked after the sting had some time to sit and settle.

“Well darlin’, if you want ta switch off me with, I’d figured that we’d drive until it got dark, stopped fer a bite and take a piss, then drive ta the airport and sleep on the plane ride over,” McCree said.

“Only if you agree to follow the speed limits,” Hanzo grumbled.

“Hun,” McCree whined.

“I may have metal feet, but you are the one with the ‘lead’ foot,” Hanzo shot back.

“My poor broken heart,” McCree crooned, clutching his chest.

“ _Tell your boyfriend how many times we had to pay off your speeding tickets and the number of wrecks you got in because you were speeding,_ ” He quipped.

“Oh, shut up, ghosty asshole,” McCree pouted.

Hanzo let out an ugly snort of laughter, quickly covering it with a cough, though it did little to hinder the dopey smile that made its home on McCree’s face as he gave the man love struck puppy eyes.

They drove in silence for a few hours, stopping once to get gas from this little dingy gas station along the road.

It had a few sun bleached soda signs hanging in the windows and a sweet older lady behind an old counter, almost out of a picture of the world before omnics were invented, though he did spy one omnic working on a car behind the station. As McCree paid for the gas from his own hidden wallet, making sure to leave a good impression on the sweet owner of the station, he got suckered with junk food and snack duty, hunting through the shelves to find something that everyone could munch on until they stopped for dinner.

“ _What does Hanzo even like?_ ” He loudly complained from the snack isle. They were the only ones in the station at the moment, the kind old lady was listening to the same station that they had been and almost seemed to drown out all other noises since it was just so quiet.

“Nothing too salty or too sweet,” McCree shot back.

He finally found some plain, low salt baked chips, some of those snack cakes that he remembered McCree liking at one point and a bag of hard candies for himself to mindlessly enjoy.

“ _Let me guess, water?_ ” He asked when he went over to look at the small refrigerated section of drinks.

“Nah, he can’t stand the plastic bottled stuff,” McCree said, waiting at the counter for him so he could pay for everything, “Git him… git him one of those not cheap health drinks.”

The selection was small, so he ended up picking a fruit/tea thing, a cola for McCree and a canned tea for himself before carrying his finds to the counter. McCree was looking at a section of cancer sticks, only to smile sheepishly when he flicked the cowboy's ear to remind him that he was quitting, thacking the patch on his flesh arm when he glanced again.

“Where are you boys heading?” The lady asked as she rung everything up.

“Headin’ home ta see the folks fer a bit, out in New Mexico,” McCree said, beaming a charismatic and beaming smile at her, “Bringin’ some work friends ta git ‘em out inta some fresh air and sun.”

“Oh! I went to New Mexico once with my wife,” The lady chimed, clearly charmed, “Went to see some of the rock formations, ended up seeing some flamenco and some zarzuela too, or at least in between basketball games. Teach me to travel while basketball’s in season with the wife in tow.”

The two hit up a conversation about fanatic basketball lovers in their families, McCree making her laugh with tales of his mother often frightening people with how into games she could get. He took the opportunity to take everything out to the truck to a waiting Hanzo, sitting behind the wheel flicking through a comm device to check messages.

“Genji… wishing me luck,” Hanzo muttered when he had stared too long, “Also telling me not to worry.”

“ _You really shouldn’t,_ ” He said, handing the archer his snacks. Hanzo ended up not particularly interested in his drink, but gave his chips a once over before stuffing them in the cup holder closest to him, “ _Honestly, you’ll never get as bad as McCree running away from home, getting into a gang and getting conscripted into Blackwatch to save his ass from a life sentence._ ”

“Your ability to soothe people is lackluster, Gabriel,” Hanzo snipped, “But… my thanks.”

McCree came back, seeming a bit happier than before, before offering Hanzo a beaming smile.

“Ready, sugar?”

* * *

“News from the information leak that Talon has declared one of their top agents, a man code named Reaper, is dead still has the world in shock. Though the mass of people are happy that the new age boogeyman no longer haunts the world, many are terrified of the person, creature or thing that could kill a man that some claim is like black smoke,”

It had been quiet driving, sometimes punctuated with bits of banter between the three of them. They had been laughing about some story McCree was telling, something about one of his wild bounty hunts, when the news report violently silenced them. McCree stared at the radio like it had sprouted teeth while Hanzo blankly stared at the road.

“There are also whispers that Reaper has also abandoned Talon, though if that is to leave the terrorist group behind for better or worse things, no one can say. For now there was an unsteady peace that this Reaper, this modern day boogeyman, may finally stop haunting our thoughts and nightmares. We now return to our music.”

“…Gabe, you okay?” McCree asked.

“ _Well, according to the news report, I’m dead,_ ” He drawled out, “ _So you’ll have to be a bit more specific._ ”

“Smart ass, smart mouthed, ghosty asshole,” McCree drawled out.

He laughed with Hanzo.

* * *

About four hours into their drive, Hanzo pulled them over to this health food place. There had been a small debate over where to stop for food, mostly it was him actually having to smack McCree for suggesting them pull over to a Taco-Bell and then Hanzo smacking him for suggesting sushi. Hanzo pointed out that there was not a lot of people there compared to some of the other places they had drove by, so they could find a table where he could eat in peace without having to worry about scarring people for life with any of his extra eyes, teeth, mouths or other unworldly features. He thought it sure was nice of Hanzo to think of him, despite being the third wheel on this trip, but then Hanzo quickly added that McCree needed to eat better and had to snicker at the cowboy's expense.

“Mama didn’t raise a vegetarian,” McCree grumped when they parked and got out.

“ _Your mama also didn’t raise no whiner, so can-it, McCree,_ ” He retorted.

Hanzo was right about it being mostly empty. It seemed that it was the off season for tourists and not quite dinner time for most people, so one of the waitresses waiting for someone to show up quickly perked up and showed them to a corner table, giving him a sympathetic smile when McCree made up a story that his face was disfigured and preferred as few eyes on him as possible.

Past fragrant potted herbs and a few tables of people on computers or phones, they sat in their little corner booth.

“Alright, after this I’ll drive until we get ta the airport,” McCree said as he shared a menu with the cowboy, sort of cringing at the extensive list of vegan dishes. Neither of them seemed to have been raised quite like that, though Hanzo helpfully pointed out that there was a list of dishes ‘more to their liking’ on the back of the menu, McCree kicking at his boyfriend's knees when they read it was the kid's menu.

“Han, yer a stronger man then me,” McCree said.

“So it would seem,” Hanzo said, unimpressed by McCree’s picky palate.

“Anyway, I got the tickets, plane leaves at midnight, we’ll touchdown in Michigan, then take a couple of trains and taxis ta make it ta my folk’s place,” McCree said.

Their waitress came by to quickly take their food and drink orders, both McCree and him making faces at the veggie slurry that Hanzo ordered. In just revenge, the archer ordered their drinks for them too, shooing the waitress away before they could stop him.

“I have not been to America is some time,” Hanzo said as McCree pouted and he wondered exactly how people thought 'lemongrass' was tasty, “Even then, most of that time was family business trips to New York and Washington.”

“Yer gonna love it Han,” McCree beamed, “My folks place is purtty as a picture, just you wait ‘nd see.”

He was starting to feel like an unwelcome tag along on this trip, but figured that he was the one being smuggled away from Winston’s prying eye. This was McCree’s time to go back home to visit his folks, this was McCree’s trip to show his folks the man that he was dating in hopes of their approval, though he doubted that McCree cared. He was the unfortunate third wheel because he was Overwatch's worst kept dirty secret.

Dinner was a quiet affair, mostly just quietly picking at what they had ordered. There was a moment when a mouth opened along the side of his mouth and a piece of food fell out, but thankfully no one noticed but him. McCree relented that he liked what Hanzo ordered for him, but quickly said that he’d rather have tequila or whiskey and a couple of greasy burgers more and goodheartedly whined that he was going to go hungry tonight. A table of girls a few tables over watched them rampantly and giggled among themselves, until McCree and him shook their heads and made ‘sucking dick’ motions and then they loudly whined ‘that all the hot guys were gay’ until they got told to shut up or leave by the owner that was working the floor. Hanzo leveled disgusted looks at them when they quieted their laughter into their collars.

When they had deemed themselves done with their respective meals, McCree paid for everything and left a sizable tip behind for the waitress.

“Alright, hit the john if ya need ta, else you ain’t goin’ till we get ta the airport,”

“ _So… fifteen minutes?_ ” He snickered. Hanzo had to hide another ugly snort of laughter while McCree gruffed and pouted.

When they piled back into the truck, McCree behind the wheel this time around despite objections, Hanzo took the passenger seat and took to meticulously dismantling his rather high tech leg prosthetics, stacking them back into his bag before messaging his leg stumps. Unlike any other prosthesis he had seen, Hanzo's seemed comprised of many working layers that almost resembled human anatomy, including a mesh wiring that almost looked like it could have been a nerve system, all plugged into the metal half spehere that Hanzo's legs seemingly ended in until Hanzo popped those off as well, leaving slightly curved plates that were so flat against the skin that they were probably part of it.

“ _…Can I ask how you lost them?_ ” He asked to strike up conversation.

Hanzo froze, fingers still dug into the heavily scarred, pale skin. The archer looked at the stumps of his legs for several long moments before letting out a long sigh.

“When I… struck down my brother,” Hanzo finally relented, “He fought back, quite desperately. He had butchered my lower legs out of an attempt to stop me… before my last strike and he… stopped moving.”

“ _I’m sorry for asking,_ ” He said softly.

“I have been told that sharing one’s pain is part of the ‘long road of recovery’,” Hanzo sighed, sounding tired and so much like his age, “No apology is necessary. May I ask… do your powers cause you a great deal of pain? It seems like they would…”

“ _Yes, like all over body aches, but sharper and deeper_ ” He said, “ _The human body was not made to shift from solids and liquids to gas and it reminds me every waking second of my life._ ”

“You okay, Gabe? Need me ta turn on the heat?” McCree asked, looking in the rear-view mirror at him.

“ _I’m good, it’s not a bad day,_ ” He said.

* * *

Despite their warnings, McCree drove like he had a lead foot and they did eventually ended up getting pulled over. Thankfully the officer was in a good mood and let them off with a warning and he ended up kicking McCree to the back seat to pout while he took the wheel. There were signs pointing the way to the airport that they were heading, so he did not need to heed McCree’s terrible directions and drove like a semi-functioning adult with some semblance of sanity to there.

There had been a small worry that they would have to actually smuggle him onto the plane, but McCree pulled out a fake passport for him to use because he thought of it ahead of time. It had a grainy photo of his face from a _long time_ ago, that pissed off man that had hardened his insides and heart to steel. It was probably the same picture that was in his old Blackwatch file, and he was ‘John Smith’, not Gabriel Reyes. As it turned out, both Hanzo and McCree had fake passports as well, since Hanzo had been part of a criminal organization and McCree still had that bounty on his head. McCree was ‘Josh Smith,’ and Hanzo was ‘Yuki’ though refused to divulge the last name and just glared at McCree when he asked, so he figured it was 'McCree'.

“ _Same Smith?_ ” He asked when they had their car sent out to be shipped back to a Overwatch safe house to be picked up.

“What? You wanna be my dad?” McCree snorted.

“… _I’m not answering that,_ ” He answered.

Thankfully the passports, despite the cringe worthy names, worked without a fuss and they found themselves on one of the red eye flights to America. A far too energetic flight attendant gave them the usual safety spiel before leaving them to find a way to entertain themselves Hanzo pulled up something on his comm device, though he could not read the Japenese to really tell what, while McCree leaned back as far as the person behind him would let him, intending on getting that promised sleep.

“ _I miss our own planes,_ ” He sighed, leaning back in his seat as much as he wanted since there was no one behind him save a bag in a seat, “ _Lena shortened the spiel to ‘buckle in and only scream if there’s a lot of fire’._ ”

“Yeah, kinda hard to own somethin’ airborne though when we’re technically not supposed ta be operatin’,” McCree pointed out, before flicking his hat down, settling his hands on his stomach and clocking out.

“ _True,_ ” He sighed, more to himself.

The plane took off without a hitch. He had a window seat so he looked out and watched the airport shrink smaller and smaller until it was just specks of lights behind them. He leaned against the window, watching the world that seemed to small pass by as they rode the wind, until his eyelids felt heavy and he drifted off.

* * *

“Guten tag, Winston,” Angela smiled as her friend came into her little clinic. Fareeha offered him a smile as she waited for Angela to finish packing her purse up, sitting oh so nonchalantly on her desk.

“Good evening, Angela,” Winston smiled back, “Just here to sweep over your clinic real quick.”

“Of course, I was just waiting for you before Fareeha, Ana and myself went out,” She smiled.

“Going wild tonight?” Winston joked.

“Only dinner,” Angela reassured him, “I’m afraid I am too quiet of person to have ‘wild nights’.”

A few people in uniforms came in with hand held devices, sweeping over every sterilized and clean surface, the locked cabinets of medicine and the few glass door locked cases of sensitive equipment. One quickly plugged a drive into her computer and scanned it for viruses and spyware, not looking through anything except common places to place bugs, malware and other foreign programs. Two quickly ducked into her private operating room, but since the most advanced thing in there were the old monitors and then the cupboard with the blankets stack inside, they just as quickly ducked out.

“Everything is clear,” One reported less than thirty minutes later.

“Excellent, next room then, start without me though, I need a quick word with our doctor,” Winston said.

“Yes, is something bothering you?” Angela asked, a small pang of worry sprouting in the pit of her stomach. She caught Fareeha tensing out of the corner of her eyes.

“No, no… I have just become aware of a few of the… relationships that have started among our operatives,” Winston said, Angela sucking down her sigh of relief that Winston was not talking about Gabriel. Bless him, he was the smartest creature of science that walked the planet, only coming short of super computers, but he could be a bit oblivious and dense sometimes, “I just want to make sure that you know… you’re stocked on everything.”

“I am completely stocked on condoms, birth control, pregnancy tests and I still manage to pry at least one physical a year out of everyone,” She reassured him as the big creature shoved up his glasses and avoided eye contact, “If you wish, when everyone gets back in two weeks, I can do STD and STI tests and give everyone the ‘safe sex’ talk.”

“N-not, necessary, but my thanks,” Winston quickly stuttered, “Have a good night, tell Miss Amari that I said hello, please.”

“Of course!” Fareeha smiled warmly.

When Winston left to join his team, she sighed before leaning against Fareeha. One of those impossibly strong metal arms wrapped around her, helping in holding her up before she could compose herself enough to start walking hand in hand to the door.

“Were you worried about Uncle Gabe? Er, Gabriel?” Fareeha asked quietly, knowing that Athena could be listening in at any moment.

“Yes, but it appears I’ve worried myself over nothing,” Angela sighed, “I tell you love, I am looking forward to an uneventful dinner with Ana and you.”

Before they could step outside, a masked Jack almost bumped into them trying to slip inside.

“Jack? Is something wrong?” Angela asked.

“Uh… no, it’s nothing if you’re stepping out,” Jack said quickly before turning and almost jogging down the hallway.

“He’s been acting weird,” Fareeha said with obvious suspicion, "Well, weirder then normal."

“He might still be delirious from the sleep darts Ana loaded into him, Ana did say that even if he woke up early that he would show signs of confusion, minor loss of fine motor skills and generally be tired and cranky,” Angela said, tisking at the corner that Jack had disappeared, “Shall we, love?”

When the two cleared the clinic, talking softly among themselves, Jack circled back. Looking down the hallway, he made sure that the coast was clear before slipping into Angela’s clinic. Athena was probably watching him, but the silent AI hardly spoke about what he did since he had been declared ‘old and paranoid’. 

Fine by him, it had given him the vantage of digging through old databases, paper files and other dark corners of the the base, finding out several important scraps of information, like how Gabe had been refused psychiatric help seven times, just how deep and dark the corruption had gone through Overwatch before it was dismantled. How Overwatch would have been the subject of a long and scathing investigation even if Talon had not planted the bombs, and they would have had the information to dishonorable discharge every damned Overwatch employee and operative and left them all with ruined reputations and monsters in the eyes of the public and a few other things that were unimportant to him but he would eventually bring to light for Winston.

First he checked her computer for what he was looking for, making a mental note to see if any of the cupboards had paper files though he doubted it in this day and age. Her computer was not password protected, so he doubted that Angela really cared if anyone saw her notes then, since her clinic was open to all and only some of the medication and equipment were locked up. Clicking through a few programs and files revealed that there was nothing too deep or personal, which meant that hand held that rarely left her side might have had the private information. Stored on the computer was mostly general medical reports on everyone, not what he was looking for, her schedule, not what he was looking for, a few notes on her own medical research, not exactly what he was looking for but fascinating to see what she was doing, but all not what he was looking for.

“Operative Soldier 76,” Athena finally chimed, “Are you looking for something that I can you find?”

He flinched when Athena spoke up, but squared his shoulders anyway. _Not like she cares what I do,_ He thought.

“Blackwatch medical reports,” He said flatly.

“I am sorry, operative, but Blackwatch’s information was purged when Overwatch was dismantled, Doctor Ziegler does have a few notes on a few operatives but the mass bulk of information is no longer available,” Athena said stoically, “I will pull up her notes now.”

A file popped open on screen, just a simple digital document on a note app. Angela had a few names and a few bullet points underneath, but there was little there in terms of detailed information. He still tuned his visor to the light of the screen to scrutinize what was there, hoping, wishing, preying to find what he was looking for. The notes seemed old, the document confirmed it since when it said that the last time had been edited was ten years ago with only a few openings to merely glance.

He scrolled through the names until he found Jesse McCree first. The bullet points first stated issues about being underweight and issues with malnutrition, a small infection in his sinuses from sleeping his previous sleeping conditions and then a later added note about worries of his recent smoking habit. There was another note, quick and jerky, about massive blood, muscle and tissue loss followed by calmer and more factual notes about a successful surgery. The last entry was a note about the worsening signs of PTSD, likely tied with Gabriel’s death.

Despite himself, his eyes trailed over those two words. _Gabriel’s death_. It made his stomach twist sharply and he felt his chest tightened. It still fucking hurt to think about, years later. It brought images of the last bit of clear sight he had, the white hot explosion claiming Gabriel's pain twisted face before he was pretty much blinded by the light. The feel of Gabriel's ripped up and bloodied body hitting him as the man's body protected him from the worst of the blast and the hour he laid under rubble and underneath Gabriel's bloody mostly dead corpse as white flashes danced across his vision and burning tears streaked his cheeks.

He took a breath, shaking away the past he had so much practice ignoring and continued scrolling until he found the name that he had been looking for: Gabriel Reyes. He braced himself, steeled his resolve and then looked through Angela’s notes. 

They were strangely informal compared to her other notes on different Blackwatch operatives, most only a few words long or carrying a friendly or informal tone. The first note was worry about Gabe’s weight that turned into almost comical bitterness about his fantastic thighs and ‘posterior’, another small note about discomfort with his knees with an added note that Gabriel needed to see a specialist soon if he was in so much pain. There was a note about his smoking that turned to motherly anger that McCree picked up the habit. A small note that he was ‘far too edgy’ for his health that had been dashed through but not deleted.

The last note…

 _‘Gabriel is displaying signs of clinical suicidal depression. I want to help him, but every time I bring it up it only angers him. He is obviously stressed, not sleeping enough, not eating enough, he’s in pain I know it but I keep getting shut down by him and then our superiors. They tell me to leave the ‘stubborn ass’ alone but he’s my friend._  
[amended]  
-Gabriel died on my table, my hands are still stained with his blood. I am a pathetic failure.’

“Agent?” Athena asked, drawing his attention away from the screen.

“Thanks,” He gruffed before getting up, closing down Angela's notes and shutting off her computer. He turned towards Angela’s private operating room, seeing that the door was ajar.

He opened the door but no one was inside and it looked like no one had ever been there.

* * *

He jolted awake when McCree shook his arm, bringing his attention to the people claiming their things and leaving the plane, sucking down grey-ish drool and quickly righting himself.

“You okay?” McCree asked softly.

“ _Yeah, why?_ ” He groaned, shifting his glasses out of the way enough to rub his blurry eyes.

“You were just mutterin’ in yer sleep,” McCree said, “Come on, we’re gonna git some breakfast and then git on a train.”

After sluggishly getting off the plane and taking a moment to stretch and take bathroom breaks, McCree shuffled them outside to some rather nippy cold winds, grey skies and a light shower of freezing rain. He shuddered underneath his hoodie, the many teeth in his maw chattering away, only mildly thankful that the cold would keep his powers in check until they got to the blissful heat of New Mexico. Hanzo, who had seemed like he was getting uncomfortable underneath his layers, quickly buttoned the two buttons that he had undone and shivered underneath his jacket while McCree pulled out his serape and gratefully wrapped it around his shoulders.

“Pure Michigan,” McCree drawled sarcastically.

McCree had wanted to rent a car to get them to the train station, but Hanzo quickly told him that regardless if McCree rented a car and drove off, he was going to walk.

“I am stiff and sore, I need to walk,” Hanzo groaned, bending over to grind his fingers against where his prosthesis met flesh underneath his pants. He was honestly surprised that McCree had once to really bother with his own arm prosthetic, but then again Hanzo depended on his to hold up his weight and move.

McCree had whined and groaned, but followed them willingly enough when they started to walk on without him. They slowly worked the stiffness and sluggishness from being on the plane for so long, himself also still struggling to wake up. The brisk weather certainly helped him wake up, enough to start taking in the many pine trees around them and the almost grey washed out landscape of car factories and highways, but it made walking a bit of a miserable chore. Hanzo was adamant they kept going until McCree’s stomach demanded a break.

They stopped at this little mom and pop donut-shop and filled up on delicious homemade donuts and coffee, sitting in the corner to avoiding the glaring, Northern rednecks giving them all dirty looks for just being there. Hanzo quipped about McCree’s sugar consumption as the cowboy shoved breakfast down his maw, only for McCree to drawl out this corny line about Hanzo being the sweetest thing of all, which strangely flustered the archer into shutting up. He snorted at the two, which only made Hanzo pink more and McCree grin ear to ear.

“Alright, so we’re gonna git on this bullet train,” McCree said after they had tossed their rubbish in the bin, taking a creased and well loved map out of his bag and laying it flat on the table. Using his metal index finger, McCree pointed to a spot on the mitten state, near the bend of the psudeo thumb, “It’s gonna take us down this way ta Tennessee. We’ll git on another train there and then make it most of the way before hitchin’ a cab the last couple of miles.” McCree dragged his metal finger through the way that they were going to go. “Be there fer supper, else my ma will skin all of us alive.”

He noticed Hanzo worrying again, mindless gnawing at the corner of his mouth while he stared blankly at the fancy-ass coffee that he had ordered.

“ _Would you please reassure your boyfriend that your parents aren’t going to hate him,_ ” He finally sighed.

“Gabriel,” Hanzo snarled, snapping up to level a dark glare and bare those pearly elongated canines at him.

“Han, ‘re you worried that my folks won’t like you?” McCree asked, obviously worried about Hanzo.

“…perhaps,” Hanzo growled, leveling a glare at him.

“Han, I already told ‘em ‘bout you,” McCree said softly, settling a comforting hand on one of the hands tightly gripping a coffee, “My ma is so overjoyed you weren’t from the old gang that she was tearin’ up over the phone. Pa could, accordin’ ta ma, give a shit.”

Hanzo actually looked relieved to hear this, but quickly returned to his naturally set bitter/angry expression and thumbed at his nose before deciding that his coffee was suddenly more interesting then them. McCree drawled out several very gushy romantic pet names before leaning over and pecking the man on one of those high cheekbones of the archer's. Hanzo blushed bright pink and grumbled something that sounded suspiciously like a fumbled curse underneath his breath.

For some reason, he missed Jack.


	12. Pining Old Men

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Mild Hanzo/McCree, refeered to past Jack/Gabriel, trans hc, mild body horror
> 
> In which Gabriel continues his third wheel but there's a bit more of him
> 
> Sorry Gabriel continues to be the third wheel, but their vacation isn't long and we'll get back to the regular scheduled shenanigans. Not many left on the list of ow operatives that Gabriel needs to interact with.
> 
> Musey is absent this chap, rough couple of days at home, so sorry for general roughness. lmao Just between us pups, drawing out the story is still weird for me and still a skill I'm developing, so thanks for all your continued support as I flail about (and thanks to the musey for correcting me and making me pace everytime I try and rush to the fun bits love him)
> 
> JAN-23-2017: Fixed some typos  
> APR-15-2017: Fixed Angela incorrectly speaking Swedish

New Mexico was hot and arid. He could feel the heat that made him sweat an ashy grey liquid as it seemed marrow deep into his bones. McCree, born and raised here, seemed hardly bothered by it, though he had stripped down to a flannel shirt over a white undershirt, the chaps stuffed into his bag. Hanzo, completely unused to any sort of heat it seemed, had slipped back into his Gi, though neither of them realized it was his normal Gi until he pointed out that he was just wearing both sleeves instead of the one.

“Holy shit,” McCree had gasped.

“Remind me again what I find attractive in you,” Hanzo had grumbled.

The taxi that they had rode in had some air conditioning, but could only get so close to McCree’s parent’ house because of ‘city limits’. When they got dropped off at the edge of a quiet little town deep in the desert, McCree dutifully lead the way through streets that had been quieting down for the evening. 

As they walked, he took stock of the old buildings that were well aged but also well loved, more than a few repairs visible to his trained eye. Dirt front lawns were decorated with ceramic creatures or handmade decorations. Beat up and hand-me-down vehicles that were dented and dinged but well maintained and repaired with personal touches of those that owned them. A few residents were outside to make use of the clear weather to use grills or fire pits.

A few kids running around one of the lawns caught sight of them and started calling out to McCree in an unfamiliar language. McCree tipped his hat and said something back in the same language, grinning when the children screamed in delight and ran inside.

“ _And here I thought you were only bilingual,_ ” He pointed out.

“Yeah, I know a bit of Navajo,” McCree said nonchalantly.

“ _Oh right, your dad?_ ” He asked.

“Yep, glad you remember!” McCree said, obviously in a very good mood.

“His father?” Hanzo asked him in a low voice.

“ _His dad is Navajo, Native American,_ ” He said as McCree greeted someone else in Spanish, “ _Unfortunately, besides that, I can’t offer you anything about the man. McCree didn’t really like talking about him._ ”

Hanzo seemed a bit disappointed that he knew nothing about him, but the archer had to give him some credit. When he had picked McCree’s ass out of Jack’s interrogation room, the wounds from falling out with his family were still fresh and the cowboy had not made up with his folks until after his ‘death’. Besides, he was the third wheel on this trip. He was here to not be back on base, not impress Jesse’s parents. That was the archer’s job.

McCree’s family house was this slightly large, two storied building tucked into the corner of town. All nice wood and shiny glass windows with beautifully painted glass and silver wind chimes that ‘tinked’ away with the slight breeze. A small red PT cruiser was sitting in the drive way with a motorcycle dusted with cobwebs and a nondescript black truck slathered with baked on mud and beat all to hell.

“Huh, ma said pa wouldn’t be home ta greet us,” McCree said.

“ _His truck?_ ” He asked.

“Nah, the little red one is his,” McCree said.

“So your mother drives like you do,” Hanzo said with obvious disdain.

“How’d’ja guess?” McCree snickered.

McCree did not get the chance to even raise a hand to knock on the door before a dark haired and dark skinned girl yanked the door open, beaming a brilliant smile at McCree.

“Bro!” She grinned.

“Hey Let,” McCree said before yanking the poor thing forward into a crushing hug until she screamed and wailed and giggled and begged him to put her down, claiming he stunk and his beard tickled. When she was eventually put down, she plucked the hat off of McCree’s head before dropping it on her own, though it seemed that he did not mind.

“Mama’s gonna kill you for being so scruffy and dirty,” She said as she let them into a narrow entryway and made them take their shoes off, himself thankful that nothing had appeared on his bare feet. By the front door there was a small number of shoes, including three pairs of cowboy boots, a pair of rather intimidating work boots, two pastel slip-ons and a pair of red heels, joined by McCree's cowboy boots, his borrowed tennis shoes and the black slip-on things Hanzo had worn to cover his metal feet.

“Oh come on, I’ve been workin’!” McCree whined as he dusted his pant legs off.

“What is mama always saying?” The girl said.

“Have pride in yer appearance,” McCree groaned before reclaiming his hat, only to hang it on a coat peg.

“I’m Leticia, by the way, Jess’ youngest sister,” The girl, Leticia, said before giving them a cute little curtsy. He quickly ducked his head while Hanzo gave a proper bow at the waist. Leticia gave them a once over, more a gander at their appearance, before inkling her head towards him, “So you must be Mister Reyes?”

“ _Yes, nice to meet you,_ ” He said, briefly pondering what all McCree had told his family.

“Pleasure,” Leticia smiled before turning her attention to Hanzo, who quickly stiffened and straightened, “That makes you Hanzo, hmm?”

“Y-yes,” Hanzo said, normally steady tone broken with worry.

“Oooh, I see what you see in him bro, he’s cute, nice cheekbones archer,” Leticia giggled, making both the men pink. He laughed with her as they got flustered before Leticia crooked a perfectly manicured finger and lead them further into the house.

The narrow entry way spilled out in a spacious living room that was lit up by the wide windows they had seen from the outside. A large couch before a TV, currently playing some crime drama, currently hosted a handful of other people. One an aged man with his long hair pulled back away from his face and the other a man that had to be McCree’s sibling based on that they shared the same chestnut brown hair and dark skin and also strikingly similar features.

But he left McCree and a very stiff Hanzo to deal with those introductions. It would be better to let those two work out their own thing without bringing the entirety of his fucked up situation into the mix. Instead he dropped his bag with McCree’s and instead went looking for the house, letting his old Blackwatch training kick in.

It seemed like the house was newer then it let on, he could tell with how… well new the walls and paint looked. Despite how lived in the rooms look, that had their doors open as he dared not actually go into any of the rooms, the walls and window had the new look and feel about him. When he happened to find a set of stairs that lead down into an apparent basement, he could make out where the top few stairs had been replaced, still gleaming with varnish. Recently renovated, or scrubbed really damn well.

As he hunted through the house, he almost passed by the kitchen.

“I can tell you are there, mi amigo,”

He paused by the door way, looking in at a modest kitchen that gleamed with new appliances. Laboring away at a stove was a short woman with a wild tangle of grey streaked chestnut hair left to almost lazily lay on one shoulder. Despite her shortness, the sleeves of her flannel shirt bulged around her biceps and her ensemble of beaten up jeans, apron and plain slippers she wore did nothing in hiding how exactly _built_ this woman was. Explained just how built McCree could get, built like an actual strong person just like this woman.

“Can you get in the fridge and hand me the metal bowl on the top shelf? It’ll be full of diced vegetables,”

He had a feeling that this woman, based on the skin, hair and frame and that motherly but firm tone, had to be Mama McCree. McCree had told them on the way over that his mom was a bit… well not someone to ignore when she was politely asking you to do something. So he went into the shiny fridge to swipe said cold metal bowl and place it on a bit of clear counter for her.

“I hope my boy hasn’t given you too much trouble?” Mama McCree said as she chopped slabs of meat into thin slices with a large and sharp _butcher_ knife. He felt like he was being vaguely threatened.

“ _No?_ ”

“Funny, here I thought you would rat him out for trying to choke you with Peacekeeper,” Mama McCree laughed, a rough and smoky noise, “And yes, I know. I get bi-weekly phone-calls and our last was entirely about you, amigo.”

“… _How much do you know?_ He asked.

“The drawer in front of you has a colorful set of knives, take out the cyan one and start dicing everything in that metal bowl,” Mama McCree gently ordered, not speaking up again until he was doing as she told. “My boy ain’t too good with the details but I think I got a pretty good grasp of all the weird shit you’re going through. You were almost dead, they tried to bring you back and it sort of made you into a boogeyman, you worked with the bad guys without any place to go, you started dying again and now you’re sort of wondering aimlessly while putting yourself back together. Close enough?”

“ _Yeah, close enough,_ ” He rasped.

“McCree has always held grudges, been that way since he was just a little thing, so the fact that he’s not holding much of one against you is telling,” Mama McCree said, “So it’s very nice to meet you Gabriel Reyes, er, again I guess.”

“ _Again?_ ”

“McCree and me made up before him and his pa,” Mama McCree smiled almost sheepishly, “I went to visit him one day at your base with a day pass. I hardly got ‘hi’ out of my mouth McCree came hollering and yelling and pushing me away because apparently he did not want either of us embarrassing him. He was afraid that we would swap stories or something.”

“ _I’m sorry, I don’t remember,_ ”

“It’s alright, it was years ago and you looked like you had the weight of the world on your shoulders and it was breaking your bones,” Mama McCree said before securitizing his work, “Need you to dice a bit smaller, mi amigo, dices that big won’t cook fast enough to feed the masses waiting on us.”

* * *

Eventually McCree did come to find his mom, after they spent a time idly chatting away. 

It was kind of fun to talk about family, with Mama McCree telling her all sorts of stories about her family down further south in Mexico and all the visit there. She had a certain knowing when he told her how his parents had given them a more Americanized upbringing. She was telling him about great places to visit in Mexico when McCree finally came in with Hanzo.

“Ma!” McCree grinned.

“Took you long enough, I swear I as getting greyer out here waiting for you to even take stock of my existence,” Mama McCree said sternly before smirking and yanking McCree forcibly into a hug. She barely came up to his pectoral, but it was high enough that she pulled away with a scrunched nose.

“I see you still haven’t quit that disgusting habit,” She frowned.

“I’m tryin’ though!” McCree quickly said, pointing to the nicotine patch on his flesh arm.

“You’ll smell like smoke until the day you die,” Mama McCree said before shooing McCree out of the way so she could see Hanzo. Hanzo seemed stunned that this small, muscular woman was McCree’s mother, but bowed none the less and stood stiffly as Mama McCree looked him up and down with almost medical scrutiny.

“…Jess, I thought you were honestly joking when you said that he dressed up like one of those history book men,” Mama McCree said, almost sounding disappointed, “Where’s the cute undercut that you went on and on about? The piercings? Mi hijo, I was hoping you would date someone from this century!”

Hanzo’s hair got tied up and out of the way by a rather brisk Mama McCree, who beamed at the revealing of the archer’s undercut while the man seemed lost for actions and words. Then of course she shooed both of them out of her kitchen, sweetly ordering them to clean themselves up.

“You’ll get a turn too,” Mama McCree said, returning to her cooking, “But cooking doesn’t seem so tedious and boring when you’ve got someone in the kitchen with you.”

He got to marvel at Mama McCree’s extensive set of colorful knives some more, between dicing, slicing, cutting and watching her use butcher knives for most everything she did. She said that it made less dishes that way and honestly she did not like cooking enough to really put too much effort into it.

“Mi _amado_ esposo, his show was on and he wanted to see Hanzo first,” She said as she almost carelessly threw meat and seasonings into a pan, “Normally he cooks.”

“ _Did McCree learn from him?_ ” He asked, still trying to not butcher his fingers with how small this crazed woman wanted these stupid things.

“Yes, and trust me, McCree gave me an ear full on how you ratted him out about that,” Mama McCree laughed, “He went on and on about how you shattered his bad boy routine, but I think that both you and I that he never really had one to begin with.”

He expected her to lapse into silence, but then those butcher knives got put down and she stared absently at the pan sizzling away on the stove.

“What was my boy like when you saved his ass from jail?” Mama McCree asked.

“ _Never asked or never told?_ ” He asked.

“You guess, ‘ghosty asshole’,” Mama McCree drawled out with a very bitter edge of sarcasm.

“ _He was… angry and bitter but so scared,_ ” He drawled out, watching his fingertips. He was sure that Mama McCree would not want his thick, nasty dead blood on her cutting board. “ _He got a mouth until he made a mistake and it took everything to keep him from crying the first couple months. He was scared that… that I would throw him in jail for the smallest thing._ ”

McCree had been a literal glass canon of emotions the first few months together. He would go off and just as quick turn around and either break down and flip a switch and try his hardest to butter you up because he seemed so afraid of going jail. It only dawned on him that Jesse was afraid of being kicked out of another home when he remembered their first conversation together in that interrogation room. He had been good about dealing with McCree then, but when he realized that he actually worked on helping McCree sort himself out, reassuring the cowboy that he was not going to kick him anywhere unless he outright deserted. But he always joked that if McCree deserted that he would drag him back kicking and screaming or join him on the run.

“...Kicking him out of my house was the worst possible thing I ever did to him and honestly I feel blessed every time he so much as talks to me,” Mama McCree sighed, tiredly running her fingers through her hair before putting it with a hair tie around her wrist. “A mother should always love her child, a mother should listen to her children, a mother should make a house a home by making sure that her children don’t want to run away but stay. And I fucked all of that up.”

“ _What was the disagreement about?_ ” He asked.

“Something incredibly stupid,” Mama McCree chuckled with no mirth or smile, all bitter set teeth as regret seemed to age her another ten years in an instant. “My boy wanted to be a peace keeper. He wanted to protect people by putting himself between the innocents and the bad guys and when he told me we had just had a bunch of corrupt cops gun down a bunch of kids and two people that tried to stop them and… The hubby flipped out on McCree, told him that no corrupt, racist fuck cop was gonna live underneath his roof and I just... None of us were very good at talking and everything just escalated quickly.”

Huh, he never pegged McCree as the ‘aspiring cop type’. The cowboy never really cared for ‘due process’ and cared more about dispensing justice and making sure the bad guys paid for their crimes. Maybe when he was younger, McCree had the temperament for that, willing to go through all the hoops of due process to make the world a better place by putting guys behind bars and wishing that they got punished. Maybe getting kicked out was what made him start to question everything?

“Hey, Señor Reyes?” Mama McCree said softly, before catching his eye and giving him a small but deep smile, “Thanks for taking care of my boy for all those years.”

Before he could say something touchy, she reached over and tweaked his ear.

“Never will forgive you for getting him on smoking though,”

Well she had him there.

* * *

Dinner was a free for all to bother the two love birds.

McCree’s old man, who told the archer and him to call him Nail and if they called him Chief he would personally sick his wife on them and McCree’s second youngest sibling, who told them to call him Jay, seemed to have been preparing for this moment. They had so many quips that they two smoshed their chairs together so they could try and curl in on themselves in a tight ball of embarrassment while everyone laughed at their expense.

He ended up wheezing with laughter, tearing up with laughter until Mama McCree had to thump his back to help him out. He was glad that his body was keeping it low on the ‘freaky’ level and kept it to just a few teeth rubbing uncomfortably along the neck of his hoodie and one tightly sealed mouth along his ribs that seemed content to just be there. He found he could eat in peace without odd stares at he laughed at Jesse and Hanzo getting buried alive.

McCree and Hanzo volunteered to take care of the dishes when they were all done, if only to get away for a moment.

“You boys better hurry up,” Mama McCree called while she lounged on the couch, her thick but short legs draped over her husband’s lap, “There’s a reason I really wanted you to come this week and I’m not leaving you in my house while we’re out there.”

“Ah ma, we ain’t even like that,” McCree called from the kitchen.

“Don’t care, I ain’t got no condoms in this house and you’re here to spend time with your folks,” Mama McCree said, making Leticia blush so innocently and Jay gagged and coughed and giggled through a root beer, trying to scrub his neatly beard clean of his sugary spilled drink. “You work with Hanzo, but you hardly ever haul your scruffy ass down here to see us.”

He heard something muttered and managed to catch it.

“ _Shouldn’t kiss your mother with that mouth, cowboy,_ ” He called.

“JESSE MCCREE!” Mama McCree hollered.

“Sorry mama,”

“That’s what I thought,” Mama McCree said, almost smug, before almost lazily inclining her head towards him, “Good a time as any if you want to clean up since we’re heading out. Guest bathroom has it all, just dump what needs to be washed in the bin and we’ll get it clean. It’s just down the hallway and farthest room on the left.”

“ _Thanks,_ ” He rumbled.

He had not really thought about it until he was pulling his hoodie over his head, but he had not really seen himself naked, or at least clearly, in such a long time. He had been so disgusted by what he had seen so closely after the surgery that he avoided bathing and cleaning until it was absolutely necessary and even then keeping the lights out.

He happened to see a shadowy figure out of the corner of his eye, he glanced and saw his own reflection in a basic mirror above the sink. When he turned to look, unable to stop himself from flinching before soldiering on, he really got a look at himself for the first time in a decade.

Patches of his skin were the same dark shade that they had been before his death, though there were still patches of skin that were tinted with ashy death still. When he ran his hands over his skin, he was surprised by the temperature difference between the more lively colored skin and the skin still stained with the color of death. The teeth, mouths, eyes and things that looked like nails only seemed to be within the ‘dead’ patches of the skin.

Eyes, the whites were tinted grey and his once brown eyes were still murky, dark and a rather ugly brown color. God above, but those stubborn purple bags were still there but _worse_ , ugh he looked like he never slept.

 _Jack needs to stop haunting me first,_ He thought.

Shaking his head, he ran his fingers through his hair that was streaked with more grey then he remembered and stepped onto the shower to quickly rinse himself off.

* * *

“Ya ever been ta a carnival, Han?” McCree asked as he held his hat to his head as Mama McCree’s truck tore down the road to the cluster of lights, tents and attractions. He had to admit that she was a _worse_ driver then McCree, especially since Leticia and Nail had crammed into the cramped single cab and that left Jesse, Hanzo, Jay and himself to squeeze together in back.

“I have been to festivals,” Hanzo said. The archer had swapped his historical attire for his punk attire, had even put in his piercings back in.

“But a carnival, sugar-pie,” McCree grinned.

“What’s the difference?” Hanzo almost snapped, “Its American? So it’s loud, obnoxious, has too much grease and sugar and holds the possibility of being shot?”

“Ouch, darlin’,”

“I like him bro,” Jay called out over the noise.

The carnival was in town and Mama McCree was hell bent on dragging everyone there at least once in McCree’s trip back home. She also seemed hell bent on killing everyone in a fiery explosion of twisted metal and heat, but managed to swerve into a parking spot before crashing into anything. When he saw Jesse and Hanzo pitch forward with said dangerous swerve he had quickly planted his feet in their chests and pinned them to the side of the bed of the truck so they did not roll and they both seemed grateful for it when the truck of doom and destruction finally stopped.

Hanzo still had to lean over the truck and retch, himself included.

“Too rough for you boys?” Mama McCree asked almost smugly.

“ _I’m dead and I saw my life flash before my eyes,_ ” He retorted, patting Hanzo’s back after he had emptied his stomach.

Hanzo muttered something that sounded _incredibly_ exasperated and insulting in Japanese before he shakingly took to fixing his hair. He left the archer to his boyfriend before easing his way out of the truck and gratefully putting his feet on solid land. He clung to the side of the truck as Jay eagerly hopped out, completely unfazed and Mama McCree sauntered out with her youngest and her quiet husband. 

“Alright, all together because you three,” Mama McCree said, pointing an accusing finger at McCree, Hanzo and himself, “Don’t have a phone and I don’t much feel like tracking you three down. I also don’t trust you two not to make mischief.”

“Ma, we ain’t like that!” McCree whined.

“Mi hijo, I was more referring to the time you and your brother set a tent on fire, but the fact that you keep insisting that _you’re not like that_ makes me wonder why you’re so defensive,”

The carnival was from out of town, stopping on their circuit to visit the desert. Locals of all kinds were there to enjoy the rustic entertainment, the many kinds of junk food and the attractions with a mild terror factor with the lackluster safety standard.

They watch Mama McCree almost break one of those strength test games, handing the giant stuffed rabbit to a very excited Leticia. McCree and Hanzo took turns failing at the dart game until Jay took point and floored them.

“I’ll never understand yer hand eye coordination,” McCree said bitterly.

“Eh, I draw for a living,” Jay grinned while he munched on his large prize bag of cotton candy.

On a spinning tea cup ride, Leticia first rode with her mother, getting violently spun around before jumping in with McCree and Hanzo and getting violently spun around again, giggling when she finally stumbled off the ride and could not walk straight to save her life.

“Why aren’t you riding?” Nail asked as they watched while McCree, third time around, tried out spinning his mother while Hanzo held on for dear life.

“ _Don’t want to explain black vomit to anyone,_ ” He said.

For some bitter reason he thought about one of the dates that Jack and him had gone on. They had gone to a fair since they had been out in the countryside and just finished kicking some Omnic ass. It was only a couple of fried food booths and a couple of shady games, but somehow they had made it a long date, until the sun went down and they had to run to catch Lena’s plane back. 

They had stuffed themselves silly on greasy fried foods and played games with all the pocket money they had. Jack had won him a barn owl stuffed animal with the one game where you knock down old, old milk bottles with a ball and he won Jack stuffed dog with wild little eyes and a tongue sticking out that they laughed at for weeks afterwards. That shit with the promotions was months away and they were still blissfully unaware of it. Work was tiring but they were making everything work.

“You alright there, Gabe?” McCree asked when they stopped by yet another donut stand.

“ _Just thinking,_ ” He rasped.

“Bout what?”

“… _I miss Jack,_ ” He finally admitted, feeling ashamed that he was still pinning after and missing that jackass.

“…Sorry,” McCree said.

“ _Not your fault,_ ” He shrugged, taking one of the elephant ears that Mama McCree and Leticia came loaded with when they rejoined their group.

“Ya know,” McCree started as they wondered down another isle of attractions and such, “Ya never talked about you two.”

“ _Because it was still fraternization before our promotions and after that… I hated him too much to try and even bother,_ ” He sighed, nibbling on his sugary treat.

“What was it like, though?” McCree asked.

“ _It was… like waiting for something terrifying and big to finally happen and it does and it seems so easy and simple that you feel silly for being nervous and anxious,_ ” He sighed, “ _It seemed like such silly things, but he made me so happy Jesse. Someone that had been at my back for years, that had my undying trust and that had been through thick and thin with me. We knew each other better than anyone else or ourselves and we were each other’s unflinching support._ ”

“Damn,” McCree drawled out.

Their little group stopped by a small petting zoo with an assortment of fluffy things to pet. They caught the tail end of a bird show and got to pet some of owner’s birds too. McCree made a joke about wanting a pet for Overwatch and Hanzo admitted that he had always wanted a dog. A fluffy barn owl that nipped at most everyone took a shine to himself and he got to fluff the grumpy thing’s feathers, McCree surprisingly not making a joke at his expense.

“What was yer first date like?” McCree asked when they moved on.

“ _Just dinner. We didn’t have much cash between us so we just stopped by this burger place not far from base. Ate these shitty burgers and just talked,_ ” He said, “ _We were mostly laughing at ourselves because we had danced around the notion of ‘us’ for so long because we were such good friends and didn’t want to ruin anything if nothing worked out. I guess it did for awhile._ ”

“Alright, I gotta know, who said ‘I love you’ first?” McCree asked.

“ _…Jack did, after our first date. He said it ‘slipped out’ when he blushed harder than I’ve ever seen a grown man blush. I felt obliged and said it back,_ He said before giving McCree a hard look, “ _Why all the questions?_ ”

“Um, you seemed lonely and… I don’t know, I thought it’d help,” Jesse shrugged.

“ _…I miss him,_ ” He admitted.

“You were in the same damned buildin’ as him,” Jesse pointed out, “Why didn’ you say anythin’?”

“ _Because he’ll never forgive me, he’ll shoot on sight,_ ” He sighed sadly, “ _Remember, I knew him. His ideals are stead fast, who good is good and who is evil and evil in his mind and there is no grey. I’m Talon in his mind, Reaper, a terrorist that haunts the darkened streets and puts holes in innocent people. Gabriel Reyes is dead and he had his funeral a long time ago._ ”

“Gabe, you ain’t dead,” McCree said firmly, “And that salty old asshole really needs to git it through his thick skull that there’s more then black ‘nd white.”

“ _Salty old asshole?_ ” He chuckled.

“Yeah, ‘nd you can tell that to his face,” Jesse huffed, “You claimed ta be a hard ass back in Blackwatch but you had nothin’ against how much of an asshole ol’ Morrison can be now a days. Man, you should’a been there when Hana decked him for tryin’ ta git her to call him ‘Sir’.”

He laughed at thought of tiny little Hana flooring Morrison with a mean right hook, seemed like the type of woman to have a deadly one hidden away.

“Sides,” McCree drawled out, hooking an arm around his shoulder and yanking him close, “If I can forgive you, I’m sure as hell Angela can scare forgiveness inta him.”

“ _She sure got mean as she aged,_ ” He chuckled.

“Very,” McCree said flatly, “Now let’s see if we can’t find ya a ride ta get on. Yer gonna enjoy this vacation wit’ me if it’s the last thing I do.”

* * *

Mama McCree made him and Jesse share the couch since it was big enough to give them enough sleeping room to both lay on.

“Personally I’d like to give you the guest room, but I need someone to keep an eye on my boy, he does dumb shit during the night when he thinks no one is awake,” Mama McCree said.

“ _You really don’t want them sleeping together underneath your roof,_ ”

“What? That? No, I’m serious about ‘dumb shit’ in the middle of the night, you wouldn’t believe the number of times I woke up because Jesse tumbled and flat out hit something walking around in the dark like a drunken mongoose,” Mama McCree had chuckled.

Not long after the lights were hit, he heard the couch creak with McCree’s weight as he shifted.

“Hey Gabe… can I ask you somethin’?”

“ _Hmm?_ ” He rumbled.

He was honestly too tired and sore for anything McCree had in mind. Their little group had found bumper cars and both McCree and his mom insisted on riding. Between the two of them he had managed to get sore all over between collisions. They had almost took out Hanzo too, whose natural agility had thankfully saved him when he jumped from the little car got sandwiched between the two driving devil’s.

“Did you date a lot of people before Jack?” McCree asked.

“ _Why?_ ”

“Cause I didn’t and I think it might show with things between Han ‘nd me,” McCree groaned.

“… _It’s entirely not like you to breath a word about inexperience,_ ” He said, suddenly worried.

“Yeah just… Han opened up and told me something important and I think I might screw things up,”

“ _What could possibly have you worried?_ ”

“He’s trans,”

“ _Seriously? This changes nothing, don’t think about,_ ”

“But what do I do? Like... how...”

The sound of his palm hitting his forehead probably woke someone up.

“ _The clit is your friend,_ ”

“...I regret asking you,”

“ _It’s not about just ramming tab a into slot b,_ ”

“Shut up!”

“I have said nothing yet,”

They both jumped when they realized that Hanzo was in the door way, hair down and a blanket wrapped it around him.

“What?” The archer demanded.

“Nu-nuthin’ darlin’,” McCree quickly said, trying to slid underneath his blanket, “What brings yer sweet face out here?”

“Your little sister snores, as does your mother, loudly,” Hanzo grumbled, quickly stepping over to them.

“But hun, I snore too, where’da think I got it from?”

“Silence, I am tired,” Hanzo said without bite before trying to lay down on the floor only to get a one arm grab from McCree that ended up the archer and the cowboy mushed together on their end of the couch. McCree giggled while Hanzo softly cussed him out before he heard the ‘thunks’ of Hanzo’s legs hitting the floor and then silence.

_Fuck, he missed Jack._

When he was sure that the love birds were out cold, he crept off the couch and snatched McCree’s comm device. He flipped through the options until the screen lit up with Athena’s symbol. Text popped up:

Athena: Hello agent McCree, may I help you with something

He flinched and then realized for a simple comm device that Athena probably could not see or hear anything until an actual screen was pulled up. She probably thought McCree was just thumbing through his comm device at an ungodly hour. Steadying himself, he looked through McCree’s contacts. After a moment to do the math to figure out the time zones before shooting Angela a text.

McCree: G here  
Angie: g?  
Angie: oh! how are you? the vacation going well?  
McCree: Yeah, folks are nice  
Angie: how is hanzo?  
McCree: Regretting everything, I’m sure  
Angie: lol  
Angie: how are you doing? health good? everything holding together?  
McCree: Yeah, was wondering if you could tell me how Jack is?  
Angie: jack is well, I actually have him in clinic now lol  
Angie: athena told me he was snooping through my files so i drilled him on that  
McCree: What was he looking for?  
Angie: old old notes of mine i kept on Blackwatch operatives , wouldn’t say why though, im getting a physical out of him since hes being stubborn lol

He snorted to himself and stiffened when McCree moved in his sleep. He waited before the snoring picked up.

Angie: lol im tempted to send you picture but theyd be on jesses comm  
McCree: It’s fine  
Angie: oh I know  
Angie: go somehere private

Crooking an eyebrow, he silently crept from the couch and down the hallway to the guest bedroom. The bed had not been touched, which only made him snort. He could barely make out Mama McCree’s and Leticia’s snoring. The archer just wanted to snuggle his stupid boyfriend. Rolling his eyes he moved into the bathroom and closed the door. Easing himself down he dared turn up the volume just slightly, barely above a whisper.

McCree: okay, noooowww?

A link was sent and he hesitantly clicked it, immediately catching Angela’s voice as a holoscreen popped up.

“-Blood pressure is good, your levels are fine for now but they do show that you’re stressing yourself,” Angela said, moving away from her inconspicuous place comm device to free up the camera to show Jack stripped down to his boxers, sitting on a gurney with his arms crossed over his chest.

_Oh_

Jack looked just as built as he had years ago, all lean muscle and hard lines that seemed only slightly softened with age. Pale skin was marred with scars both old and new and dusted with silver hair. Damn, just as good looking as when they were younger.

“You say that every time,” Jack grumbled.

“And I will keep saying it until you follow the good doctor’s advice,” Angela snipped.

“Can I put my pants back on yet?” Jack rumbled. He was hard pressed when he realized that those once brilliant blue eyes were faded. They were still such a beautiful blue, but less clear summer skies and more faded blue jeans now. Faded... heh.

“Tell me why you were snooping on my computer,” Angela retorted.

“…”

“What I thought, now to listen to your heart and breathing,” Angela said.

He curled up into a ball, watching the screen as Angela angled herself out of the way and let him watch Jack get ribbed and teased and poked and prodded. He wanted so bad to push through the screen and be with Jack again, even if it meant getting shot. He wanted to clearly hear Jack’s voice and touch that skin that he thought he once knew.

 _We knew each other better than anyone else or ourselves,_ He had said.

“ _Not anymore,_ ” He sighed, watching the familiar stranger on the screen.


	13. Username

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Mild Fareeha/Angela, McCree/Hanzo, minor anguish, pining, mentioned past Jack/Gabriel, mild body horror, minor nightmare sequence, flashbacks, some instances of chatlogs
> 
> Sorry about the short chapter, been dealing with some writers block and a rough few days. A few notes about this chapter. A certain _well loved_ tank makes an appearance, and instead of referring to them as 'it' as the wiki/in game lines does or try and use gendered pronouns, we referred to them as the gender neutral singular 'they'. Yes, part of McCree's antics are based on that one bull riding vine. Once again we see bits of the elusive plot of this hot mess.
> 
> Thanks for reading, have a good morning, afternoon and evening pups.
> 
> Written by Nev, editted by Six
> 
> APR-15-2017: Fixed Angela incorrectly speaking Swedish

_“Welcome, Gabriel Reyes,”_

_“Don’t call me that… Gabriel Reyes is dead,” He snapped, glaring up at the suit from underneath the hood of his stolen jacket._

_“Hmm, I suppose technically he is. Very well, welcome new operative,” The suit leaned in with a greasy and evil sneer, the smell of too expensive wine and cigars on his breath and making his dead stomach squirm, “You’re new name is now Reaper. A fitting name for a monster such as yourself, non?”_

_“Yeah,” He sighed, giving the suit a shove to get the bastard out of his face. Not like he was aiming to be a model employee and the man stank to high hell of rancid luxury. The only reason he was here was… he just… had literally nowhere else to go._

_Overwatch was being dismantled, everything that everyone had worked so hard to form being ripped apart by people that had hated them for years. The news was going nuts with every scrap of new corruption surfacing, people saying that they had been right all along and Overwatch was just another evil organization with power and money mad leadership. Last he heard most everyone was being shipped out to their homelands or wondering elsewhere to avoid persecution or outright legal action against them. Angela was going back to working in under-funded and under staffed hospitals, Torbjörn was heading home to be with his wife with Reinhardt in tow. Everyone that was not dead was running from the law, captured already or slinking away into the shadows. Walking home with a tail between the legs, dead or jailed for the rest of their miserable life, what a way for ‘heroes’ to go down._

_‘Heroes did die’ was on everyone’s bitter thoughts as funeral after funeral was scheduled. His funeral had been four days ago, he had watched his mom, brothers and sisters sob over a nailed shut and empty coffin. Went to Jack’s too, nailed shut and holding his former lover’s corpse, watched a sweet old couple cry over their baby boy. He had laid blue orchids, Jack’s favorite, on his coffin when no one was looking and left to cry black tears like a broken man as rain poured because of course the skies would crack open and rain on Jack’s funeral._

_Now… he was… alone._

_“You will be working with Widowmaker for the most part, why don’t you get acquainted?” The suit smiled that same greasy and clammy smile that felt like it was leaving stains on his cold dead skin._

_“What creative and imaginative code names,” He said between his jagged teeth._

_But his coworker was already entering the room, someone that broke his heart to see because he remembered her once smiling on the arm of her husband that she loved so much. He remembered how her husband had go on and on about how lovely she was and how much he loved her, the sweets that she made for the whole gang and her once sweet voice when she came to base to smother her husband with love…_

_…Before literally smothering him in his sleep one night before disappearing into the night._

_“Amélie,” He breathed._

_The blue tinted woman tilted her head, face scrunched up as she took him in. Her nose, ear tips, lips and eyelids were blue, like she was freezing or her blood was not circulating well enough. She looked like she was walking the very fine line between death and life, a little less blood flow and she would drop dead from her body’s inadequate oxygen supply but a little bit more and she would have been that happy woman he once knew._

_“My name is Widowmaker,” The once familiar stranger said coldly, “I will be working with you from now on, Reaper.”_

_“…Right, Widowmaker,” He frowned._

_So she was dead, like Gabriel Reyes was dead and all that was left was a ghastly wraith and a deadly little spider without homes to call their own, places to haunt, nests to rest in._

_Am- Widowmaker came over to him, frowning as she looked at something on his face._

_“You look like a monster,” She said flatly._

_“I know,” He said, feeling his mouth that was currently stretched from ear to ear and filled with hundreds of sharp teeth, shift around. He faintly felt several eyes blink away on his face. He had already seen the horrors that his face could conjure, the fluidity of his shape that twisted him into a true monster._

_“It is okay though,” Widowmaker said, turning and lazily motioning for him to follow out of the suit’s office. “You are among monster. We make so facades, no quells, no lies about whom we are. We are the monsters among men. We do the vile deeds that need to be done. We are Talon, the literal talons of the darkness.”_

_Monster… oh far he had fallen. He was once a war hero, L. A.’s pride and joy after the Omnic Crisis. Then he was Commander Reyes of Blackwatch, dehumanized and degraded to the horrible racial slur ‘Mexican sadistic thug that beats people up with a smile’. Now he was Reaper, monster of the night, the modern day boogeyman ripped right from nightmares._

_Shell of the creature that he once was._

_“Reaper,”_

_When he looked, his eyes opened in terror. The blue tinted face was littered with beady, red spider eyes and hairy carapace covered legs were sprouting from her back. Vibrant, glowing green poison dripped from fangs that were extending from her mouth._

_**“Where. Are. You?”** Widowmaker hissed out, drawing closer as venom waterfalled down her extending maw._

_She launched herself at him._

* * *

He woke up screaming.

He ended up scaring the ever loving shit out of Hanzo and McCree, who ended up falling out of the couch and crashing to the ground. That woke up Mama McCree and Nail, the former of which came running into the room in sweats and a tank top with a loaded shotgun, ready to gun someone down in her house.

“Uh, _mi hijo_?” Mama McCree asked when she saw the cowboy and the archer still tangled on the ground, having a hard time moving with McCree short an arm and Hanzo’s prosthetics still detached.

“Uhhhh, mornin’ ma,” McCree smiled sheepishly.

Mama McCree ended up ribbing McCree something fierce while Nail wondered to the kitchen and Leticia in a nightgown and Jay in sweatpants joined them.

“Everything okay?” Leticia asked.

“Yeah, don’t you worry, baby,” Mama McCree smirked as Hanzo finally managed to pry himself from the cowboy and quickly attached his prosthetics to his knees. McCree hunted down his detached arm as he blushed and fumbled with an excuse, only to get some more chuckles out of his younger siblings and mother.

“Ah, what do you three know anyway?” McCree finally shot, red like his serape.

“Alright you two, go get dressed, we actually have plans today,” Mama McCree shooed. When her two youngest had left the room, she dropped her jovial expression and suddenly turned serious. She looked them over before her eyes settled on him. “Nightmare? I heard the scream.”

“… _sorry,_ ” He rasped, voice still a bit rough. He rubbed his hands over his face, wincing as the rough pads of his fingers and palms caught and rubbed against eyes littering his cheeks. When his thumbs hesitantly brushed against his mouth, he found that it had ‘ripped’ literally ear to ear. _Just like the nightmare._ With some concentration, he started to force his face to try and regain some humanity.

“No need, no harm was done. Are you alright, Gabriel?” Mama McCree asked, watching the eyes and monster’s grin slowly fade back into almost normal skin.

“Gabe?” Jesse suddenly butted in.

“ _It was just a nightmare, don’t worry about it,_ ” He sighed, feeling his age bear down on him like physical weight.

 _Was Talon looking for him?_ He had to ask himself as he pulled the ragged edges of his smile closed.

* * *

As much as he wanted to steal McCree’s comm device, suddenly desperate and needy for all sorts of human interaction, he was greeted with a surprise after had Leticia quickly run out to grab the McCree mail.

“Uh, Gabe, I think this is yers,” McCree said, handing him a ripped open package.

Tucked inside some bubble-wrap was a gleaming new comm device and a note that said ‘you’ll know’ with a haloed and wings smiley face. Well it was Angela’s awful handwriting and her lopsided and lazy doodle.

“ _Why would she give me this?_ ” He wondered aloud as he fiddled with it.

“Maybe cause I don’t like seein’ Jack’s bare hide when I try and check my messages,” McCree grumbled darkly.

He half muttered an apology as he looked through the sleek little device. Just from remembering the system style that McCree’s device had, it looked like it was just a basic comm device not wired to Athena and her network, which was smart on the good doctor’s behalf. Not sure how the advanced and almost sentient AI would react to learning about him, but he figured he would get into the good graces of Winston first since she listened to him. When he pulled up the contact list, it looked like he had personal, non-Overwatch contact information of everyone that knew about him.

As he was scrolling, an app pinged loudly, startling him and almost making him drop the damned thing. After fumbling to catch it, he spat out a curse before opening the app, an anonymous chatting app.

[Entering Channel: Worst Kept Secret]

ANGIE: @GABE im sure he’ll answer  
D.VA: kkkkk, I’m rekting you froggy boi  
LÚCIO: You’re not! D:<  
TROJN: you lot are sitting RIGHT FUCKING NEXT TO EAACH OTHER  
D.VA: TIP JAR  
LÚCIO: TIP JAR  
ANGIE: TIP JAR  
LENA: TIP JAR  
REIN: TIP JAR  
TROJN: fuck your tip jar!!

So any chat room with Overwatch members was the same fucking hot mess that it always was. Glad to see something unchanged. He checked to see that no one was leaving yet, McCree had been sent to tame his beard. He heard someone banging things in the kitchen and could hear a soft voice singing distantly. Mama McCree had taken a spot on the couch and was sorting through bills with some small reader glasses balanced on the tip of her nose.

He started to type a response… and then decided to be whimsical.

GABE: **Death comes from the shadows.**  
ANGIE: gabe!  
LENA: Pay up!  
TROJN: you couldn’t not be a fucking edge lord for one fucking day Gabe, really???  
REIN: GABRIEL!  
ANGIE: i see you got your present ;D  
GABE: Thanks. Jesse didn’t appreciate seeing

He paused with his thumb over the J. Right, he was still dead technically and he did not know how anonymous this app was.

GABE: Thanks. Jesse didn’t appreciate seeing 76’s ‘bare hide’ by the way  
ANGIE: lmao whoops  
GENJI: www what?  
ANGIE: nothing ;) lol  
LENA: Were you sexting Gabe for 76???  
TROJN: I don’t want to hear about your dicks!!!  
REIN: THAT IS A LOT COMING FROM YOU FRIEND, WITH YOUR 7 CHILDREN  
TROJN: *8  
LENA: And you’re assuming what’s in their pants Tro~  
TROJN: Okay that last bit I’m sorry about and you keep my 8 children out of this Reinhardt  
REIN: =D  
TROJN: WHO TAUGHT HIM TO FUCKING EMOTE???  
ANGIE: TIP JAR  
LENA: TIP JAR  
D.VA: TIP JAR  
LÚCIO: TIP JAR  
REIN: TIP JAR  
GENJI: TIP JAR  
GABE: What’s this about a tip jar?  
LENA: Hana and Lúcio are streaming together and they’ve got most everyone on base in voice chat. Every time Torbjörn swears in irl or chat he puts money in the tip jar and Hana is gonna donate them to her fave charity at the end  
GABE: How much are you at?  
D. VA: Three hundred and twenty five dollars and twenty five cents for when he caught himself halfway  
GABE: Still a sailor mouth, eh Tor?  
TROJN: Fuck you  
TROJN: gdi  
D. VA: BOTH COUNT

“Something funny, Señor?” Mama McCree asked idly.

“ _Uh, sorry,_ ” He quickly said.

“You’re alright, just don’t know if your chuckling or rasping is all,” Mama McCree said, “You should probably get that rough voice looked at one of these days.”

“ _I’ve sounded like this since I hit puberty,_ ” He said flatly.

Mama McCree gave him a look and let him go back to his comm device.

BASTN: φ(ﾟﾛﾟ*)ﾉ  
D.VA: Hey Bastion!  
GABE: … the mobile tank?  
BASTN: ｢(ﾟﾍﾟ)  
LENA: OH!  
ANGIE: you two haven’t met yet! oh goodness i forgot!!  
ANGIE: bastion this is gabriel reyes  
BASTN: (?・・)σ  
LENA: Bastie baby, don’t freak out love  
LENA: He’s Reaper  
BASTN: (」ﾟДﾟ)」

The chat room was suddenly filled with the mobile tank’s frantic and terrified emotes punctuated with everyone trying to call them down. After several moments, Bastion was muted so the situation could be explained to them. It took several walls of text and the testimonies of everyone in the chat room, but eventually Bastion was un-muted.

ANGIE: so you don’t need to worry! he’s not even reaper anymore technically!  
LENA: Trust me sweetie, he’s down with Jesse’s folks right now and we haven’t heard anything, so he’s okay, right?  
BASTN: (⊃д⊂)  
BASTN: (｡･･｡)  
BASTN: (;ﾞ°´ω°´)  
GABE: Trust me, I’m more scared of you then you should be of me. Remember all the times you’ve mowed me down?  
BASTN: |･ω･｀)  
BASTN: ┻┳|･ω･)ﾉ 

And like that the conversation went normally again. For the most part he simply watched, snorting when something particularly funny happened. Hana was just doing a recount of the tip jar when McCree came back into the living room with a tamed beard and trimmed hair. Honestly with his hair under control, he looked like he had lost a number of years off of him. Mama McCree cooed her approval, smothering sweet words on her baby and giving his cheeks a pinch.

“ _You clean up pretty well, cowboy,_ ” He rumbled after McCree put his hat back on his tamed mop.

“Why thank you kindly,” McCree smiled.

When Hanzo remerged from grooming himself, he was his punk self but all neatly done up. McCree had a pickup line waiting and Hanzo had a sly answer that had the cowboy pouting in turn.

“Alright, breakfast first and then we’re going,” Mama McCree said, “This is everyone’s vacation and I’m making everyone enjoy it.”

* * *

“What is this?” Hanzo asked.

“Ain’t never rode a bull before, darlin’?” McCree chuckled.

Mama McCree, Leticia and Jay had their phones out and were filming them all crammed together on the back of the mechanical bull. Hanzo was at the front of their little train, McCree smushed in the middle and himself taking up the back, his thighs digging into the fake fur to keep him on. There was a crowd of the dive bar’s regulars and a few tourists, watching adamantly as they waited for the show to begin.

After a morning of miscellaneous activities from the gun range, the horse range, catching some of the local dance groups, they had stopped for lunch at this little dive bar that the McCree family frequented. It took only one look at the normally ignored mechanical bull for Mama McCree to get this devious idea.

“What is this point of this… thing,” Hanzo asked.

“You’ll see,” McCree grinned.

“Ready… set…” The announcer said over the mic.

“I am afraid,” Hanzo said.

“Be afraid,”

“GO!”

The bull slowly inclined forward, Hanzo’s hands scrambling to find perch only to try and dig into the thin fake fur covering the mechanical beast. The beast slowly turned to the side, just slightly faster, before turning back around just slightly faster. McCree took off his hat and ‘yeehaw’ed at the crowd just as the machinery inside the bull gave a loud whine.

“ _Be very afraid, archer,_ ”

The bull bucked hard, drawing a loud curse from Hanzo before it swung hard to the side and threw him clean off and into the padded wall of the pit that the bull was in. McCree yeehawed again before the bucking monster turned hard again. His thighs clamped down on the side and he held onto McCree for dear life as the cowboy whooped and hollered like some deranged adrenaline junkie.

The world became a blur around them as the beast went from zero to sixty in three point five. McCree lost his hat right quick, still yelling and hollering like an idiot as they were spun, bucked, tilted and thrown around like rag dolls. His hands scrambled from McCree’s waist to dig into the bull in a vain attempt to keep him there.

The bull bucked really hard, his ass leaving the faux-fur for a millisecond before it came back up and basically punched his pelvis. McCree, who seemed glued to the damned thing, laughed as he spat out every profanity that he could remember before they got shit whipped around again.

“Watch this!”

McCree shifted on the bull and when it bucked up next McCree went with it, jumping up and balancing himself on the bucking metal bronco. Before he could yank the man back down, the crowd exploded around them, cheering the dumbass on as he seemed to magically balance himself on the twisting, spinning and turning mechanical bull. McCree showed off an almost unnatural balance as he kept his two feet planted and flashed white toothed grin after grin at the crowd watching with rampant attention.

“JESSE MCCREE YOU SIT YOUR ASS DOWN!”

Well all good things did need to come to an end, and with the shout, McCree lost his foot and got thrown off the bull almost violently. He ended up getting tossed ass over tea kettles and landed ass up in the air and almost bent in half, clearly dazed and confused.

“Looks like we’ve got a winner folks after a crushed defeat of the cowboy, just goes to show you folks! Show-offs never win!”

“It’s those damned thighs! Ghosty asshole!” McCree hollered as he unfurled himself and went to go grab his hat, swaying on his feet.

“Nice tumble, mi hijo!” Mama McCree called out, phone flashing away.

When the bull finally stopped he leaned forward. His thighs were still clamped shut out of fear as he waited for the world to stop spinning and trying to keep his stomach down.

* * *

“Oh look, McCree sent us a photo over chat,” Angela smiled.

“Oh! Oh! I’ll pull it up!” Hana grinned, pausing the game much to Lúcio’s relief to pull up her stream screen again.

Hana’s stream chat buzzed away as Hana fiddled with the cross platforms before she dragged a picture on screen.

McCree folded in half and Hanzo leaned up against the side of a padded pit in the floor with a black hoodie clad figure hunched over a mechanical bull and a smug woman in the corner holding up a peace sign. The caption across the screed read: ‘The boys are having fun. Also #ThickThighsSaveLives cause that’s the only reason the ghosty asshole won.’

“MY NEW BACKGROUND!” Hana roared in laughter as everyone watching the stream broke down into teary laughter.

* * *

“Not dancing?” Mama McCree asked him.

After getting thrown around, they had eaten at the dive bar’s little diner. It was nothing special, but it was free food he did not need to cook so there was not much he could complain about. After that the people old enough to drink got to order a few rounds and Jesse ‘light weight’ McCree had eventually pulled a very sober and very embarrassed Hanzo up to the dance floor. Mama McCree had danced for a time with her hubby, having to pull him down or shuffle her slight frame onto his feet, before trading places with her daughter and letting those two be a goofy pair.

“ _Bad knees,_ ” He said, nursing his water.

“Ah, poor thing,” Mama McCree said, patting his shoulder, “When was the last time you got to dance?”

“ _Teaching Jesse the two steps that he knows,_ ” He said.

“How about danced and enjoyed it?” Mama McCree asked.

That was much longer. Bad knees had kept him dancing or moving much outside of work for years… He dug and dug until his mind was once again brought back to Jack freaking Morrison. 

A date, they had slipped out of work and hit up this club with a lot of people, lights and colors. They stood out in their obvious military grade ‘casual’ wear, but were there to party and had military paychecks to blow. They had ordered goofy, colorful drinks and danced together, almost flush, on the dance floor that throbbed like veins to the music. Jack had stolen his beanie and put it on his head and proceeded to grind that flat ass into his crotch while wearing a very unsexy expression. When the lights had gone out so some two bit disc jockey with an ego could make a grand appearance, they kissed and danced flushed against one another.

“… _A long time ago…_ ” He sighed.

“Who could an old man like you, be pining over?” Mama McCree smirked.

“ _No one,_ ” He growled.

“Just saying, Reyes,” Mama McCree smirked, smug like the cat that got the cream, “Whoever you’re being all angsty over you obviously still like, _like_.”

“ _I’m not being angsty,_ ” He huffed.

“Hun, way back in the day, McCree would only call you ‘Edge Lord’ and that’s how I knew you by for months until I heard otherwise,” Mama McCree frowned playfully, “He still calls you Edge Lord too, when he thinks you’re not listening.”

“ _I’m not being angsty… he would shoot me dead the second we looked at each other. Hell, we have shot at each other. We’re different people now and he moved on and…_ ”

He never did, he had to admit.

* * *

“When is McCree coming back?”

She looked up from her notes and blinked in surprise at the person sitting on the couch that she had never realized had joined them.

“Oh, um… two more days I think? Maybe three? McCree said that they would be gone no more than a week,” Angela said.

Jack, sans his visor but still wearing the mask, was only wearing that black undershirt and had his arms crossed over his chest. If it were not for the mask, he would have looked like a mildly upset older gentleman.

“Hmm,” Jack rumbled.

“Aw, miss him already?” Hana teased.

Jack lazily waved his arm in Hana’s general direction, unable to see exactly where she was and not really wanting to put forth an effort into quieting her.

“It’s probably just the boredom,” Angela said, “Winston did say no missions until McCree and Hanzo came back. Training can only do so much for a lone wolf like Soldier 76.”

Jack frowned at the holo-screen.

“You really should train with everyone one day,” Hana said, tapping away at her controller, “Maybe you can actually flank, charge, group strategize or do any amount of team work that doesn’t screw everyone over in the end and actually be an asset to Overwatch at all.”

Jack looked like he had just been smacked.

“… She’s got a point,” Lúcio muttered.

“YOU’VE BEEN BURNED,” Reinhardt bellowed as everyone broke apart into tearful laughter and Jack’s frowned deepened to the point that he looked his part as pissed of grandpa about to tell some kids to get off his lawn.

Making sure that no one was looking, Angela snapped a picture of Jack frowning and forwarded it to Gabe.

* * *

“Anythin’ good?” McCree asked as he flicked through his comm device.

They were in the back of the pickup truck, watching some old horror flick at a drive in theater. While some terrible CGI monster lumbered after some terrible B-rated actors screaming their lungs out, his comm device had buzzed.

“ _Angela linking me a picture in chat,_ ” He said, finally managing to pull up said picture.

A picture of a frowning Jack, arms crossed over his chest. There was a caption underneath that read : Hana just schooled him. He snorted but kept the picture up to look at him.

“Tell her I’ll be checkin’ in tomorrow to give Winston the all clear,” McCree said, leaning back into Hanzo who was strangely enthralled in the movie and munching away on these weird veggie chips.

[Entering Channel: Worst Kept Secret]

GABE: The cowboy will be checking in tomorrow  
ANGIE: yay I can’t wait to hear how the vacation is going  
ANGIE: also security updates are good lol  
GENJI: Tell my brother shot day is the day he gets back o/

“Shot day is the day we get back?” He muttered aloud.

“Ugh,” Hanzo groaned.

“Aw, ye’ll be fine,” McCree soothed, “I’ll kiss it and make it better after.”

JRAT: AIN’T NO ONE STICKING ME WITH NOTHIN  
ANGIE: it’s just updated vaccinations, booster shots and anyone’s HRT shots  
JRAT: WHAT THE FUCK IS HRT???  
ANGIE: hormone replacement therapy for our transgender operatives  
JRAT: WAIT YOU DO T SHOTS WHY THE FUCK HAVNT I HERD BOUT THIS??  
D.VA: His English is falling apart!  
LÚCIO: His bombs are set to blow right?  
ANGIE: yes mister junkrat i do testosterone shots if you like i can do yours too when mccree and hanzo get back  
JRAT: GET BACK YOU CUNTS I WANT MY T SHOT  
D.VA: PUT A DOLLAR IN MY TIP JAR RIGHT NOW  
JRAT: I ONLY GOT HUNDREDS  
D.VA: CLOSE ENOUGH  
HOGGE: …

He snorted before turning back to the screen, letting chat blow up as he watched a slimy monster rip apart another witless teenager on screen.

* * *

“Hey Hana, your chat is really spamming the ‘Reaper-cryptid sighting’ icons,” Lúcio pointed out.

The team was winding down for the evening, most everyone either getting ready for bed, in bed or trying in vain to push off sleep to watch D.Va keep on trucking like the pro that she was. Angela and Fareeha were tucked together in the chair, Angela’s white-blonde head tucked into the crook of Fareeha neck and shoulder as the security chief tapped away on her comm device. Lúcio was stretched out on a couch to stretch his legs out and Hana was laying on her tummy on the floor as she played some cute little adventure game.

Hana took her eyes off her game to look at chat spamming the blurry owl mask. Just from the few people managing to get two words in, people were getting pissed off.

“Mods, mods! Start temp-banning people for using that icon,” Hana said loud enough for the mic just a foot away to catch.

That stopped the spam right quick as a few hundred of her million or so viewers got temp-banned. Seeing that this was no joke, people thankfully stopped until only a few people keep brazenly spamming away.

“Mods, perma-ban people still spamming it,” Hana said, wanting to go back to her game. 

Honestly she perma-banned people all the time for minor grievances like spamming icons, but it was unsettling that someone/someones had started a spam train of the icon of a former villain that she had met not long ago.

“You didn’t happen to catch who started?” She asked Lúcio, “They’re going on the shame list.”

“Nah, sorry,”

One of her mods popped up, having heard her.

“Someone named Hack3r5Lyfe, which is a stupid name by the way!” Hana stated, “Bye, Felicia!”

The shame list, filled with the names of particular assholes being douchbags on stream in chat, got updated with the name and the chat went back to buzzing about what was going on in game or chatting away about something.


	14. Strength

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Implied Zarya/Mei, Hanzo/McCree, Angela/Fearaha, mentions of past Gabriel/Jack
> 
> The boys are back from vacation! Back to shenanigans! (No one tell musey but I'm posting this without him having betaed it so sorry if its a bit raw). Anyway, just a few notes to make worthy of being... noted. The story won't end when Jack and Gabe make up, there's going to be a bit of plot after that dealing with Overwatch and Talon that so expect fluff. There are also a few pairings that we still want to happen. As we get closer to Jack and Gabe's meeting and their eventual making up, I'm torn between having musey write a non-descript tasteful smut scene or just doing what I do best and write an explicit scene, so that's still up in the air. 
> 
> Also we heard about what was revealed about Reaper and honestly? We're going to ignore it in favor of more details, because the newest revelations just makes the story a hot mess and it would mean rewriting huge chunks of this story without a lot of details. So for now, the story remains as is.
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading! Have a great morning/afternoon/night pups! Love you all!<3
> 
> -Written by Nev, to be edited by Six

“It’s just Mei, Zarya, Jack and Winston left,” Angela said over the comm device.

The McCree family was sitting around a fire pit roasting various things. They were going to leave tomorrow evening, retracing their journey back to Overwatch base and Mama McCree was trying to make their last night special. While McCree taught Hanzo about s’mores and roasted apples, Angela had called him, giving him the all clear that Winston’s suspicions were dissuaded for a time and he was back to being overly focused on rebuilding Overwatch.

“ _The climate scientist, the Russian strong-woman and the two people that want to kill me, got it,_ ” He sighed as he watched someone catch their treat on fire… again.

“Gabriel,” Angela said gently, “You don’t know that. For all you know, it might be great!”

“ _I broke his glasses and almost took out his advanced AI,_ ” He pointed out.

“Well, there’s plenty of people to vouch for you now, just think about it,” Angela said, “Think about all that you have accomplished so far. You thought you were going to die for real, then we fixed that and we’re trying to get you back to the land of the living completely. You were sure that your old friends would turn on you and they were so happy to see you back! You could be wrong about Jack and Winston too.”

She had a point he grudgingly admitted. He was so sure that when he started to break down, unable to physically hold himself together, that he was finally going to die. But here he was and he hardly remembered his last attack, his last moment of physical weakness associated with his strange powers. In fact one could consider him living, heart beat and almost room temperature to the touch in some places. He had also been so sure that Ana, Reinhardt, Lena and Genji would kill him on the spot and they did not. They gave him a chance and now he almost felt like he was accepted among them, almost like he was their friend.

“I won’t push you, Gabriel,” Angela said, “As your physician, by my morals and oath as a doctor and not to mention your friend, I will not do anything to stress or harm you. But I think you should think about it. If nothing else we can introduce you to our resident cold girls first and then you can leave Winston and Jack for last, that way you have a lot of people at your back.”

“ _True,_ ” He said absently.

“On the plus side, if you get either Mei or Zarya to like you, the other is sure to follow!” Angela chimed, “They‘re dating.”

“ _Just how many queer people did Overwatch being together?_ ” He snorted.

“Soooo many, so many,” Angela laughed with him, “I guess we’re Gaywatch again. Lena will be proud to bring it back.”

“ _Just don’t let her paint rainbows over everything again, remember when she did that last time? The higher ups made everyone scrub walls, floors, machinery and uniforms for a week to get all the paint out._ ”

“Oh my poor hands just hurt thinking about it,” Angela sighed wistfully.

Lena had painted everything with rainbows using her speed, all the machinery, suits, uniforms, floors and walls. The base had been smeared in bright and vivid rainbows for days and most everyone thought it was funny or just ignored it, but the stiff suits had said otherwise. Lena had been threatened with discharge, had she not been their most experienced pilot there and difficult to replace. Then everyone was made to try and scrub or trash most everything that had been ‘stained’. They kept most of it, claiming the paint was stuck or stashing them with their own things. But there had been weeks of people laughing and throwing colorful water as they scrubbed everything clean. Rainbow smeared paint had been smeared on skin and for weeks had been the most colorful operatives seemingly in the world.

It had been not long after the whole ordeal with the promotions and his depression had been harming him physically. But it had been the first time that he had laughed in weeks, the first that he smiled and could forget about being the shifty asshole doing illegal ops for a bullshit organization of heroes. He had been saddened when all the paint was cleaned and they went back to their normal routines.

“We should do that again, maybe not with the paint Lena used, but washable paint that we can hose down afterwards,” Angela suggested, drawing him from his thoughts again. “It could be fun.”

“ _Remind me to show you this mix me and my siblings used, we used these powder paints and powdered bath-bombs, really pretty and vibrant but washes off really easy,_ ” He said.

“Ooh! That sounds like fun!” Angela cooed, “We should get the colors for all the pride flags.”

“ _You just want an excuse to have several shades of pink,_ ”

“There will so much pink, it’ll be so pretty! And we should add sparkles!”

He could only imagine it, liquid color full of various sparkles hitting people, walls and things left and right. Angela laughing with Fareeha with the two of them soaked in bright pinks and gold and white sparkles, McCree with a handful of all the colors and throwing them everywhere while shouting that stupid line of it his ‘It’s High Noon’. He did not know about the others operatives, but who could resist colorful paints, water-balloons and sparkles?

“ _Sounds fun,_ ” He smiled.

“I should run the idea by the others, and if I have the time zones right, should let you get back to it before long. Have a good night, Gabriel!”

“ _Night, Angie,_ ”

This feeling… it felt like progress, it felt like growth, it felt like change.

It felt like living.

* * *

Mama McCree was there to see them off after making sure that they were stuffed silly with food. ‘No need to eat that gross airplane food, it’ll keep you over until you get to some place decent and Nail made it! Bonus!’ She had told them.

“You make sure to come down more often, mi hijo,” Mama McCree said as she pulled Jesse down enough to kiss his cheek and then his forehead as they pulled on their shoes.

“Can do, ma,” McCree smiled.

“You’re always welcome, this is your home again, remember that,” Mama McCree said before righting his cowboy hat and tugging his serape back in place. With Jesse fixed, she moved onto Hanzo, squeezing the archer around his middle in a rather familiar manner. Hanzo seemed slightly thrown off by this, unsure what to do with his face or arms.

“You’re welcome too Hanzo,” Mama McCree smirked, smug that she could ruffle the archer’s feathers so easily, “That is if my boy hasn’t run you off before then.”

“He… will not so easily be rid of me,” Hanzo said quietly, before giving Mama McCree a proper and polite bow, “It was an honor to meet you, my thanks for inviting me into your home and taking care of me.”

“Mi hijo, you lose this one and you will never find one better,” Mama McCree told her son while he huffed and pouted.

The short woman surprised him by giving him a hug as well, yanking him down so she could wrap her arms around his neck and squeeze him tight. He wondered what brought on the affection, when she let him go to give him a bright and happy smirk.

“Reyes, it was nice to meet you again too,” Mama McCree said, still smirking, “If McCree is willing to drag your ass down here again, I wouldn’t mind see it again.”

“Ma!” McCree whined.

“Hush, not git, you’re going to miss your cab and I’m sure none of you want to try and walk to the airport,” Mama McCree said as he blushed and pulled his surgical mask up. She shooed them out the door, “I love you Jesse and I can’t wait to see you again. Make sure you call me when you get home safe and call me again at the end of the week so I can hear from you.”

“Yeah, yeah, love you to ma,” McCree grumbled before ducking down and laying a kiss on his mom’s cheek, “I’ll call you as soon as we land.”

Mama McCree, soon joined by Nail and their younger children, waved them off and watched them go before they had to round a corner. When they were finally out of sight, McCree seemed a little deflated.

“ _Miss them already?_ ”

“Yeah, I don’t come home often, I should do it more though,” McCree smiled.

“…If I am still allowed… I enjoyed my time here and with you and would not mind doing this again,” Hanzo said nervously.

“Darlin’ I’m pretty sure if I don’t bring you next time, I’ll be a lesser person in my folks eyes,” McCree drawled out all sweet like, “I’m also sure that if I don’t bring Reyes again, that ma will kill me.”

“ _She didn’t like me that much,_ ” He snorted.

“Reyes, you don’t know my ma, she loved the both of you, to death,” McCree grinned, squeezing his shoulder, “Yep, that’s it, next ride around this way, I’m totin’ the both of ya’ll with me. Ain’t no ifs, ands or buts about it. We’ll stay longer next time too, maybe drive out ta a pool er sumethin’.”

“ _I burn in the sun, with my dead skin,_ ” He said.

“We’ll dunk you in sunblock, Hanzo too,” McCree deadpanned, “Put some color back inta that skin of yers.”

“You will not be dunking me in anything,” Hanzo snapped.

“Aw, darlin’, do you want me to hand rub you down then?”

“…I wish to change the topic of conversation,” Hanzo said, turning pink as they laughed and laughed before running to catch their cab.

* * *

They got back a day later, after hopping from the airplane through a few trains and taxi rides, managing to throw anyone off their trail if they happened to be doing that. McCree claimed that it was how he normally traveled to get bounty hunters off his trail and Hanzo backed him up, saying it was how he threw assassins off his own trail. It helped with his own paranoia, since he was expecting Widowmaker or Sombra to come out at any point and drag him kicking and screaming back to Talon.

He was the one that got to park the borrowed car into the false hillside, though he was not able to see much of what was in there because of the setting sun. Would have been nice to see if Overwatch had any of the old recreational motorcycles and borrow one, he missed riding them. 

It was beyond dark when they finally smuggled him through all of Athena’s blind spots and got him back into that closed off little room that had become so familiar to him and a beaming angel that he was glad to see again, having stayed up just to greet them again. He handed off his borrowed clothing to get cleaned and eagerly got out the heating blanket as McCree and Hanzo regaled Angela with tales from the trip. She laughed when McCree explained the bull riding incident.

“I’m glad you three had fun,” Angela smiled.

“Yeah, I gotta make sure I visit more often,” McCree grinned.

“I’m sure as soon as Winston has a regular schedule set up that he can approve regular vacation time,”

“Man, I look forward ta that instead of sittin’ around and doing trainin’ runs all the time,”

“Speaking of which, we should probably set some of those up, which means you two should head off to bed,”

“Right, night you two,” McCree drawled out, tipping his hat and ushering Hanzo out the door. When Hanzo was cleared of the doorframe, McCree leaned in close to Angela.

“Ah, doc, you got…?”

“On my desk, be responsible,” Angela tisked at the cowboy before shooing McCree out of her operating room. With McCree out of the way, Angela turned back to him with a smile.

“You had fun and there were no casualties, I say that it was a success!”

“ _You doubted me?_ ” He snorted.

“Remember that one vacation you went on shortly after Overwatch was thrown together?”

“ _To be fair, Jack was laughing about that broken leg for weeks,_ ”

Angela rolled her eyes at him, making them both laugh, before running him through a quick check up. She checked his pulse, blood, checked his blood pressure (which was low but considering his heart was still getting used to beating again it was pretty amazing), breathing and put a blood sample underneath a microscope to check his cell regeneration and decay. When he was given the all clear, she jotted down some notes before hitting the lights.

“Good night Gabriel, and welcome home,” Angela said as she left.

_Home. That felt nice._

* * *

_He had been hunting him for miles, silently stalking his shadows, wearing him down, draining him of everything. Bullets, biotic emitters, rations, places to hide and time, he had stripped them all out of this vigilante. That was half the fun of the hunt, watching the life drain from the prey as they were forced to flee for their lives._

_He may not have been a sadist before he became a monster, but maybe being dead and taking on the villain role had done that to him? Twisted something in him until he really was the monster that others saw him as._

_He cornered his prey, huffing and wheezing and bleeding from a bullet grazing in some abandoned building. It was raining, a warm rain that poured down like buckets. This vigilante had still left bright red puddles in the ruined road and he followed them to the building, ducking in to see his prey hunched in the corner, clutching his empty weapon._

_“You’re a real pain in my ass,” He growled, marching over to this asshole in gaudy blue. A swift kick sent the man’s weapon spinning and crashing into a wall. He reached down and grabbed a fist full of the asshole’s tacky leather jacket and slammed him into the wall glaring at the rag dolled man. “Chasing you all over hell’s creation. You’ve been a real pain in Talon’s side, jackass and now it’s time to smear your brains all over the walls.”_

_There was no telling what the things covered the man’s face was or if they could protect him, so he dug the talons of his gauntlets into the man’s visor and mask and ripped them off with a crunch._

_“Now,” He growled only to fall short._

_…He knew this face. Even aged, he knew the scars across this face, he knew the features._

_The vigilante’s eyes open and there were blue._

_He dropped the man like a hot iron._

_“Haven’t I killed you somewhere before?”_

_No, no, no, nO, NO, NO!_

_The vigilante that had been gunning down Talon agents, disrupting operations, raiding abandoned Overwatch facilities and generally being a pain in the ass to the dark criminal underworld._

_He used his wraith form and got out of there, misting out into the rain and screamed and wailed and made all sorts of hellish noise because-_

_Jack was alive._

_The man that he once loved. The man who broke his heart. The man that he killed with his own stupid mistake. The man that he mourned and moved on._

_Jack **fucking** Morrison._

_“Reaper? Status report,”_

_“Lost the trail,” He snarled, seething._

_“We’ll get that bastard, don’t you worry,”_

_No… he thought not._

* * *

“I can’t believe you slept on the floor,” Angela said, looking slightly worried.

“ _I’m learning that I toss and turn when I have flashbacks and nightmares,_ ” He grumbled as he twisted to get out of the cage that his heating blanket had become with his wild twisting and turning had trapped him in.

“Here, let me help,”

He could not help but let out a curse as he was easily picked up off the floor before being tossed around to unfurl the blanket. When he was freed he was dizzy and staring at a smirking face that he did not recognize.

“ _And you are?_ ” He asked, trying not to think how this person was holding him up with one hand on his back.

“Aleksandra Zaryanova, but please, call me Zarya,” Said the pink haired, smirking person that was unfortunately, totally, holding up all of his weight with just one _fucking_ hand.

Oh, right, Zarya was the Russian strong woman. The five twelve on her shoulder was testament to her strength, in kilograms. No wonder she was holding up his measly weight with just one hand, he was probably little more than a potato sack to her.

“And this is my cute girlfriend, Mei!” Zarya said, suddenly pulling a shorter and rounder woman towards her with her free hand.

“Greetings,” Mei smiled.

“… _Hi,_ ”

He got put down so proper introductions could be made.

Zarya was cagey about him at first, very tentative about what to say to him. But Mei’s scientific side made the climatologist vastly interested in him. She admitted not knowing details about biology of singular organism, but was still fascinated to hear everything Angela and himself has to say about his unique body. Seeing Mei open up about him got Zarya to be a bit kinder, but they both seemed hesitant to divulge anything to him.

When this was brought up, Mei shoved her glasses up her nose almost nervously.

“You’ve done some bad things,” Mei said, “And I’ve never been a fan of bullies.”

“We’ve all done bad things,” Angela quickly interceded, “We’re doing bad things right now by trying to form Overwatch under the nose of the law. If any of us are caught, we’ll all be labeled terrorist and face prison time.”

“True… and most everyone is adamant that you’ve turned a new leaf,”

“Almost everyone, how will Winston feel about this?” Zarya asked, “The big gorilla, he hates Talon.”

“Well, we’re waiting for the right moment,” Angela said with a heavy sigh, “As you can imagine, Winston is not going to react to Gabriel’s presence well. We’re trying to get as many voices in Gabriel’s favor as we can when we do bring his being here to light.”

“Who all does or doesn’t know about him?” Mei asked.

“Everyone but Winston and Soldier 76,” Angela said.

“Wait… everyone knows and… everyone is okay with this?” Zarya questioned.

“ _Surprisingly,_ ” He rasped out, “ _McCree did try to blow my brains out when he first saw me, if that counts. Hana threatened to shot me down with her meka if I hurt anyone._ ”

“Ha! Little rabbit still just as vicious facing an enemy in and out of gear, I love her!” Zarya laughed.

“… _I really want to change,_ ” He said, quietly, truthfully, “If nothing else, if Winston truly doesn’t want me here then I’ll leave and I won’t go back to Talon, that’s for damned sure… I’m done being the bad guy.”

That seemed to surprise the two, as they stared wide eyed at him for several long moments before looking at each other. A silent conversation seemed to go on between them as they read each little detail of the other’s face and eyes, conveying words with the slightest twitch. He looked to Angela who gave him a reassuring smile back. For once, she actually inspired some sort of comfort and reassurance in him.

“Hana already did threaten to shoot him down,” Zarya mused, “No need to really lay it on thick.”

“And McCree did try to kill him and look where he is now…” Mei mused back.

“McCree took him on his vacation with his family!” Angela quickly pointed out, “No casualties!”

“ _Except McCree’s and Hanzo prides,_ ” He retorted before he could stop himself.

“…He put the archer and that cowboy in their place,” Zarya conferred with Mei.

“Okay, okay,” Mei sighed with mock defeat before giving him a beaming smile, “We’ll give you a chance, Mister Reaper.”

“But!” Zarya quickly interrupted, “You hurt my friends, I break you. In half. Like toothpick. Comprehend, comrade?”

“… _Yes,_ ” He swallowed, not wanting to see if his powers could get him out of being snapped in half like twig. He was sure that Zarya could find a way to break mist and smoke.

“Good, I give you chance,” Zarya smiled, “Very pleased to meet you, Gabriel Reyes.”

“Same here, nice to meet you,” Mei chimed in.

He breathed a sigh of relief.

“Now, I’m really fascinated by your biology,” Mei said.

“I can help with that!” Angela smiled.

* * *

Jack and Winston left and he was not looking forward to either of them. Both of them wanted to kill him and one it would actually hurt.

Winston, well, he had it coming. After trying and failing to snatch Doomfist’s gauntlet and smashing his glasses, and then trying and failing to snatch and grab all of the Overwatch’s operatives’ information and almost taking out Athena, he would honestly be surprised if Winston did not immediately fly into a rage and try and kill him. Honestly, he would deserve it, especially after smashing his glasses and almost taking out Athena, even if Winston had tossed him around and also electrocuted him.

Jack… was Jack.

Honestly, between the two of them, he was more terrified of Jack’s reaction because honestly he did not know. Winston was going to be pissed. He knew that, but Jack he just did not know. As much as he wanted to say that Jack would just flat out try to kill him, some part of his mind was starting to dare hope differently. Perhaps Jack would be happy to see him, or perhaps Jack would tolerate him. Perhaps Jack would throw himself at him and declare that he had been waiting for him to come to his damned senses or maybe Jack would blow his brains out. He was daring to hope that maybe… maybe things would be different.

Maybe this whole ‘turning a new leaf’ thing was getting to his head.

He was honestly expecting everything to come crashing down around him. Overwatch get outed and his presence getting known. Talon to come tearing through and drag him back to Talon. For one of the people that knew about him to sell him out or try and kill him. Or even just him sabotaging himself by slipping back into that bad guy routine and hurting someone or just panicking and running away so he did not need to face anything or anyone.

Fuck… why was fixing your life so damn hard?

When he watched Genji with Master Zenyatta and how the once vengeful ninja was now at peace with a foreign body and working with the person that put him in it. When he watched Hanzo laughing and working with his fellow Overwatch operatives with how he once hated himself for what duty had driven him to do. When he watched Tracer use her time traveling abilities with how she was once ripped from her life and sent through hellish time travel. When he watched Angela joyfully go about her work when she once broke under the strain and claimed that she never did enough… he felt a bit green with envy that they were doing so well with getting their lives together. Murders, killers, victims and hurt bystanders, putting back together the pieces of their lives with such seemingly ease that he could not help but feel a bit green around the gills.

Maybe he was struggling because he was coming back down from a life of terrorism, murder, and hate and destroying. That was a lot more than anyone here had to deal with, so there was a lot more work to redeem himself than anyone else had to do. Well, maybe not more than the Junkers but he had a feeling that they did not care that they were still anarchists and thieves and were just having fun hanging out with a most illegal gathering of heroes. He wanted to redeem and change himself, so he needed to put in the work.

_I want to change, I want to change, I want to change,_ He told himself.

The work was just starting.

* * *

“Try again,” Angela said.

He focused on his arm, trying to remember the feeling of his atoms falling apart and… he felt… stuck? Honestly, he had gotten so used to the fact that his atoms could fall apart and he could phase shift that… well that he could not and he felt stuck. Instead of his arm falling apart into smoke it remained an arm.

“Hmm, odd,” Angela said after he huffed to signal his defeat, “I did not think that your powers would be so tied to your cell regeneration and decay that you would start to lose them. Are you able to use any of your powers?”

He concentrated for a moment and then wraith formed from the bed to next to Angela. It felt off though, less like breaking apart and then reforming and more like pulling himself apart, stretching between the two points and then snapping back into shape. It felt draining, more so then normal and made him feel… weird, like an over stretched rubber band.

“Strange,” Angela mused.

“ _So this might just leave the old Gabriel behind, hm?_ ” He asked.

“Well the old Gabriel was a super soldier,” Angela said, “And a damned good soldier besides the ‘super’ part too.”

“ _Just trying to butter me up to distract me from the fact that I’m losing the powers that I’ve become reliant on,_ ” He deadpanned.

“I know, but you’re still a good soldier without the powers,” Angela said, patting his arm.

“ _Here’s to hoping an old dog can remember old tricks,_ ” He quipped.

“You’re not an old dog and you’re barely an old man,” Angela quipped right back, “Now, do you want to go through with your treatment? You could lose more of your powers…”

“ _Yeah, I’m committed,_ ” He sighed, “ _At least Jesse will lose the excuse to call me ‘ghosty asshole’. Now I’ll just be ‘asshole’.”_

His powers, the powers that had earned him the name ‘Reaper’, the same powers that he has used for years to do evil and he was losing them. Honestly, he was not sure how he felt about losing them, but he was sure that he wanted to lose them. Losing the powers was just one more thing to kill about Reaper before he could be Gabriel Reyes again. He was not looking forward to relearning how to fight again, that was for damned sure.

“Alright, we’ll schedule your treatment for later tonight,” Angela said, making a note on a clipboard, “I would set it for sooner, but Winston has set up training for the evening and I need to be there to insure that any unfortunate injuries can get patched up.”

“ _Unfortunate?_ ”

“We’re not as good at training as we were in the old days,” Angela sighed, taking a moment to rub her temples tired like, “Things get a bit… _messy_ sometimes and we end up with injuries. Like the concussion that Lena suffered a few weeks back. We lack direction because we have no solid leader. We have a bunch of people used to operating on their own and new to teamwork.”

“ _What’s Jack doing?_ ” He asked.

“His own thing,” Angela said flatly.

“… _It might be crazy, but I may have an idea,_ ” He grinned.

* * *

“Already, we’re going through an aggressive Omnic assault _again_ ,” Winston said as the team prepared themselves, “Now… where’s Angela?”

“Here!” Angela said, full Valkyrie suit on and armed with her staff, “Sorry!”

Angela bounced over to McCree who was loading Peacekeeper and shoved some hair out of his face. He gave her a look, readjusting his hair as she took up her spot.

“Alright, let’s get into position,” Winston said.

When Winston wondered off to join the back assault with the other tanks, Jesse tapped the ear piece that Angela had slipped in his ear.

“Howdy?”

“ _Hey cowboy_ ” He drawled, watching from Hana’s stream. Hana had a system of cameras set up to catch all the action, not just her point of view. He flicked through a few of the cameras to catch some of the different views, though it looked like Hana had separated them between ‘Attack’, ‘Defense’, ‘Tank’ and ‘Support’. He watched the ‘Attack’ group take point where the simulation would start funneling in aggressive Omnics.

“Well howdy,” Jesse said all quiet like as the cowboy hunched over to hide his talking mouth, “What brings you here, Gabe?”

“ _Through some gentle guidance, you’re going to help pull off this training session,_ ” He said, dragging the holo-screen on his comm device to enlarge all the screens, “ _Ready to take charge, cowboy?_ ”

“Well, if it’ll keep everyone from scrubbing duty afterwards,” McCree drawled.

“ _Alright, same as when we used to do runs,_ ” He instructed, “ _Comm check._ ”

“Alright y’all,” McCree called on screen, “Comm check, sound off!”

There was a moment of silence as everyone seemed at a loss for words. So they had been all singular pieces of a unit not working together if this was how they reacted to leadership.

“ _Demand attention, cowboy,_ ”

“I said… SOUND OFF,” McCree shouted.

“Zarya, D.Va, Roadhog, Winston and Reinhardt accounted for!” Hana called over comms.

“Symmetra, Mercy, Ana, Lúcio and Master Zenyatta all accounted for,” Symmetra reported.

“Bastion, Hanzo, Junkrat myself and Torbjörn ready and able!” Mei chimed over comms.

“Genji, Pharah, Soldier 76 and myself are all clear,”

“Positions!” McCree called.

“ _Alright cowboy,_ ” He said, rearranging the screens, “ _Remember how to arrange a funnel maneuver. Set up the Attackers a bit back, don’t crowd the funnel point. Keep the Defense back and keep them in line. They are not to break formation. Set up Defense on vantage points, break them up how you think they would work best.”_

He watched Jesse relay his orders through his own words, getting everyone in line and ready to attack. He smiled, feeling something akin to pride to see Jesse organizing a bunch of misfits like he used to do with his Blackwatch operatives. It was nice to see that McCree could take on a leading role, even if it was with a bit of direction. It would have been nicer to join but… baby steps. 

“ _Once everyone is set, call an ‘all clear’ to make sure everyone’s set, tell them not to call it until they are sure they’re set. There’s no real time crunch so they can take a moment to get themselves ready,_ ” He instructed. 

“Everyone git yerselves ready, when yer sure that yer ready, call ‘All clear’ but not until then,” McCree said over the comms. 

“ _Once the all clear is set, start the mission,_ ” He said as the ‘all clears’ started funneling in, “ _When it starts you don’t have to say much, remember that. Barking too many orders just distracts people and takes away from the goal. Reward progress but don’t lay it on thick, remind people to stay in their positions, offer corrections if you spot mistakes, but don’t be yelling over the comms all the time._ " 

All clear all clear and the simulation started, forming a destroyed and burning building complete with the sounds of destruction sounding all around them. Junkrat started giggling over the comms but thankfully but McCree and Roadhog silenced him quick enough before the Junker could lose his calm. The doors burst open the first wave of simulated crazed Omnics started pouring out. 

The first few waves went down like a charm, between the Attack and Defense teams neatly killing everything that crawled out. If anything managed to slip past them, the Tanks easily dispatched them. If one of the teams got hurt, Support was behind the Tanks to easily remedy that. Mercy kept the Tanks thriving, Ana shot healing darts and Zenyatta shot orbs to anyone too far away and Lúcio speed boosted when his suit was not automatically healing the Tanks with Mercy. 

“Team Defense is kicking arse!” Torbjörn called over the comms. 

“Says you, Team Offense’s kill count is much higher!” Pharah called, raining down missiles on another wave. 

“Let’s kill the smack talk!” McCree called out over the comms without direction. 

“Chat is voting that Team Defense will win!” Hana chimed out as her guns took out stray Omnics. 

“No one votes for Support,” Ana sighed loudly. 

“TEAM TANK FOR THE WIN!” Reinhardt bellowed. 

“GUYS IT AIN’T A CONTEST!” McCree snapped over the comms, “IF YA GOT TIME TA YAP, YA GOT TIME TA SHOOT!” 

There was a moment of silence as everyone refocused on the training mission. 

“Sounds like someone’s worried that Team Offense will lose,” 

“NO PROVOKING!” McCree yelled with his instruction. 

With the competition pegged and silenced, the training went well. No one got knocked out or seriously injured and they cleared the training mission with flying colors. Winston applauded Jesse’s sudden take for leadership. 

“Hey, you were watchin’ the stream, right?” McCree drawled out when he got a minute alone, “Uh… you know she’s got bots set up and…” 

“ _Team Offense with the most kills,_ ” He chuckled. 

“Knew it,” McCree grinned. 

“Knew what?” Hanzo asked as he approached the cowboy. 

“Nuthin’, hey darlin’ hows about you listen to this?” McCree said, taking out the ear piece and quickly sticking it in Hanzo’s ear. 

“What?” Hanzo said, trying to dig it out again. 

“ _Hey archer,_ ” He chuckled. 

“…Jesse…” Hanzo started, leveling an icy look at the cowboy, “I am not mad… just very disappointed.” 

He got to guffaw himself silly as McCree tried to explain the situation to a very disappointed Hanzo, whom had apparently been _very impressed_ with McCree’s leadership skills. After nothing worked, Hanzo left McCree, making sure to smack him in the face with that golden ribbon thing in his hair, before leaving a very saddened McCree in his dust with the ear piece in his hand. 

“God dammit, I just can’t win,” McCree muttered as he stuffed the ear piece back in. 

“ _The time will come to get laid, Jesse,_ ” He chuckled, stifling louder laughter when McCree turned red, “ _Right now… pat yourself on the back. You did really well, better than I could have hoped._ ” 

“Don’t get mushy on me, ghosty asshole,” McCree muttered. 

“ _Kinda hard when I can phase shift,_ ” 

McCree looked around, spotted one of the cameras and promptly flipped it off. He just laughed until well beyond when McCree took the ear piece back out. 


	15. Target Rich Environment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Referred too Genji/Zenyatta, Hanzo/McCree, Morrison/Reyes, mild body horror
> 
> Happy Valentines Day pups!~ Sorry about the short chapter, I done goofed something in my hand and it's hard to type and I figured it would be a nice surprise if I could push something out on this lovely novelty holiday especially with a surprise with permission of the muse I think you all might like<3
> 
> Have a happy Valentines Day pups! ily~
> 
> Come bug me on [tumblr!](https://nevaryadlwrites.tumblr.com/)

“Reyes-san!”

He had been having a quiet morning.

Angela had given his treatment and he had gone through the worst agony yet. Part way through Angela’s worst fears had been realized and his body had rejected the treatment, his atoms had gone into a severe state of decay and Angela had to enlist the help of all the healers to overcome it. Angela had told him that he had broken apart into a thick mass of blackness, grisly and bloody chunks, hundreds of eyes, mouths, teeth and nails. According to a very tired Angela, it had been almost horrifying, but it had not lasted long underneath everyone’s combined efforts.

After the black and bloody sheets and clothing had been changed, Angela had been pleased to inform him that his cell regeneration and decay rate was almost ‘nominal’, or at least her best guess for nominal considering all the chemicals that he had been seeped in for the SEP. She told him that with the next treatment or the one after that his cells would decay like and or be at the same rate of a ‘normal’ person. It would also likely result in his powers completely disappearing, but that was old news.

He had been underneath his heating blanket, trying to nurse the worst of the lingering pain that was akin to white hot nails breaking his bones, when a certain cyborg dashed in with a flurry of green light and came to a screeching halt by his side.

“ _What?_ He rumbled.

“Hide me,” Genji said before ducking down and rolling underneath the bed, effectively disappearing with the edges of his heating blanket hiding most of him.

Not even a second later and Hanzo kicked down the door, carrying that big ass bow of his. An arrow was notched and the punk dressed archer was glaring murder at him.

“Have you seen my brother?”

“ _No, why are you trying to kill him **again**?_ ” He said flatly, making the archer flinch and realize that perhaps the loaded bow was a bit much. He slung it over his shoulder anyway, still gripping an arrow in a white knuckled grip.

“He has brought light to something I wish to _discuss_ with him,” Hanzo said with a bitter edge.

“ _…Hanzo, I’m going to be completely honest with you,_ ” He growled, sitting up and gnashing his teeth at the archer, making him jump from the suddenly burst of anger, “ _I’m in a lot of fucking pain and I really don’t care for you being here right now._ ”

Hanzo seemed like he was going to say something, made the wise decision to not say anything and then turned and left, slamming the door as some show of force. With his brother gone, Genji popped his head out from underneath the bed. After a moment, the ninja rolled from underneath the bed and bounced to feet, casually brushing himself off.

“ _What. Did. You. Do? ___”

“Uh…well…” Genji started, casually taking a seat on his bed, carefully not to trap his blanket with that weird full ass of his, “With my brother openly perusing a relationship with Jesse, I thought I could tell him about a year and a half relationship I have had. He did not… react well.”

“ _Who could possibly have pissed him off for him to react like that?_ ”

“…My… master? Zenyatta?” Genji said, sounding very unsure of himself.

“… _kinky_ ,”

“Better reaction then my brother. He had a very difficult time coming to terms with the mechanical parts of my being, despite him being the cause for it. He also hated master, claiming that no ‘machine’ could be philosophical or a master of anything. So you can imagine his reaction when I told him that…”

“… _How do you two even…_ ”

Genji’s features may have been hidden behind his faceplate, but when the cyborg turned to level a look at him, he got the distinct feeling that he was being glared at. Not that he gave a damn, honestly and truly. He still hurt and honestly was not connected to this little drama between the brothers. Honestly, if Hanzo had that much of a damned problem with whom his brother was seeing then he needed to look at his own paramour and realize that he had NO room to talk.

“ _Just remind your angst bundle of emotions for a brother that it’s technically his fault you two are together,_ ” He said, sinking deeper underneath his heat blanket.

“I fear that may only drive him over the edge further,” Genji sighed, “Speaking of edge, we have already broke three windows, two doors and a couch, so I must continue running to avoid the wrath of both my brother and Doctor Ziegler.”

The lithe ninja sprinted out in a whorl of green light, leaving him to his agony.

It took him a while to realize the implications of what the prior event meant. Only when the pain had started to sizzle off a bit that he realized that people were starting to trust him, see him as a friend, or in Genji’s case, literally could trust him with their lives. Sure it took a few hours for him to realize it, bitching and moaning to himself about youngsters these days putting too much stock into who was hooking up with whom, but when he did he almost felt touched.

Almost.

* * *

“Have I ever told you that it’s unfair that you have some princess waistline?” Hana told him as he mended his old Reaper coat.

“ _No,_ ” He grunted out, needles gripped between his teeth as he tried to hold a busted seam together to stitch shut.

‘”Because it is,” Hana said, so brazenly and lazily draped over the edge of his bed, “You’ve got great hips, thighs, legs, a waist to die for…”

“ _They’re a pain,_ ” He groaned, stabbed another needle into the material, “ _Try shopping for a figure that clothing industry thinks should be in porn getups._ ”

“Huh, I guess that’s true,” Hana said stretching out like a lazy cat, “Still, I at least wish I was taller.”

“ _You’re still young, you might have some growing in you yet,_ ” He said, stabbing two more needles into the material. He jabbed in another two just to keep the seam nice and close together. With the black threaded needle, he took to laboriously stitching the steam together.

“Why are you fixing your old coat?” Hana asked, poking at the worn material, “I thought you were done being the bad guy?”

“ _I am, just…_ ”

Why was he fixing his old coat?

_I’m bringing Jack in today,_

Oh, right.

Angela had wanted to bring in Morrison today and to say that he had been panicking was an understatement. Coming down from a full blown panic attack and his hands had fumbled for something to distract himself and somehow he managed to get a hold of the Reaper getup that Angela had cut him out of. He had been stitching cuts, slashes, busted seams and anything else that his shaking hands could fix simply to keep something in him distracted.

Fuck, he was not looking forward to seeing his ex-boyfriend again.

“You seem tense,” Hana said, stating the obvious.

“ _No shit, Angela is bringing in Morrison today,_ ” He almost wheezed, “ _I still don’t know if he’s going to blow my brains out or be happy to see me._ ”

“Oh, yeah, sorry,” Hana said, giving his knee an almost comforting pat, “Should I get my meka? One salty piece of old white bread shouldn’t be a problem when I have my baby with me.”

“ _I really don’t know and I really don’t want to think about it,_ ” He groaned.

Hana watched him sew for a while, letting them lapse into comforting silence. Sometimes she broke it to ask about a certain stitch he was doing or why he was doing it a certain way. It was rather nice of her to help keep his mind off the sensitive issue. He was once again struck with the thought that these people that he was once on a ‘shoot on sight’ basis was now on a ‘helping a panicking friend out’ almost friendship basis. Enemies to friends, all in the course of what? Two weeks? Miracles did exist apparently.

A knock on the door almost made him wraith form underneath the bed and definitely set his heart hammering against his ribs. Thankfully Hana got up to answer the door while he sat petrified and staring with fear at who could possibly be behind it. His fears were quickly washed away when it was just Torbjörn.

“Half pint,” Torbjörn gruffed up at Hana, who just stuck her tongue out at him.

“ _That’s a load from the man with dwarfism,_ ” He retorted as the small meka pilot took her seat back on the end of the bed.

“Ah, shut it, you tall bastard,” Torbjörn said, shuffling in. He carried an oil cloth wrapped object with him, which he set on the bed. “Took awhile, mostly because I realized I didn’t know what yer fuckin’ mask looked like except vaguely like a barn owl or vaguely like a skull. Then I just asked for the broken one that you tried tossing out.”

He unwrapped the oil cloth and about threw the damned wrapped thing. Sitting in the soft material was his fixed mask, almost gleaming with newness. Coupled with the coat in his lap…

_I ain’t dead Gabe,_

NO! Reaper was fucking dead. No more. No more boogeyman haunting for Talon. Reaper was gone and his stupid, fucking edgy getup was all that was left. Dead, dead, no more, Gabriel Reyes was back and even if he was dead to the world, god dammit he was alive again.

“You okay, Gabe?” Torbjorn asked, heaving himself up into a chair, “Looking a bit panicked there.”

“… _Just thinking…_ ” He sighed.

“Better not be thinking about destroying that mask, I just finished it,” Torbjörn snipped.

Well, it was not like he was going to wear it anytime soon. His face had actually been behaving lately, most of the oddness restricting itself to his features and where they should be. That did mean monster teeth, monster nails, weirdly colored eyes and sometimes black veins, but there were no extra eyes, mouths, teeth or anything weird popping up where it should not have. The weirdness might have been tied to his powers and losing them would mean that he would finally look normal, something he was actually looking forward too. The definite streaks of grey in his hair were something that he would think about later.

“He’s meeting his ex boy toy today, so he’s nervous,” Hana provided.

“Eh? Should be fine, Jack’s gotten too old to do much outside of battle, just out run him or take out that visor of his so he’s blind,” Torbjörn shrugged, “Not to completely derail the subject, but what are you doing here, half pint?”

“My accounts got hacked last night, I’m waiting for the security measures to reset all my passwords, rip out all the viruses and check my bank history to make sure my cards weren’t hacked too,” Hana sighed.

“You find out by whom?” Torbjörn asked as he tried to pull another stitching tight.

“No, but they’re good, that’s all I know,” Hana sighed, “Tried to implement a bunch of spyware for no reason though. I think they were trying to get something through me, so I’ve got Athena on high alert and waiting for her to comb through everything when my security measures roll over everything.”

“ _Worried?_ ” He asked.

“Yeah, apparently someone started rumors about Overwatch reforming and Winston thinks it was someone that thought I had joined, since it’s weird for me to be stationed outside of Korea for long lengths of times,” Hana explained, “Athena’s already had to shoo away a few people from getting too close to base.”

“If only that big lug would let me program the turrets to shoot close to those assholes,” Torbjörn said, “Just close enough to spook them, not actually hurt them.”

“ _People tend to frown upon that Tor,_ ” He pointed out.

“But they’ll learn to keep themselves away from here,”

* * *

He got an ear full of it later when East and West came by to visit. Apparently Winston had them shooting down foreign drones trying to get on base and they had spent most of the morning and afternoon hunting down what Athena could not forcibly eject with her own drones. They bickered about who shot down the most drones, bitching like a couple.

“I still shot down more,” McCree said.

“That is what you wish happened,” Hanzo retorted.

“The point being,” Angela said, breaking up another argument before it could escalate, “Is that this needs to be done. The UN has already contacted Winston and he’s under fire. If we give no one ammo to use against him, Winston could probably dissuade them for the time being until we are ready to publically announce ourselves.”

“ _I wonder if any of those old UN assholes we all knew are still around,_ ” He said, reaffixing a metal talon tip to one of his old gauntlets.

“Most of them, sadly, are,” Angela sighed, “One asked me how that ‘project’ with Genji had gone and that was almost a decade ago.”

“ _Ugh,_ ”

“No shit, I remember one greasy mud-lickers face from that one meetin’ where they wanted to discharge me fer losin’ my arm,” McCree grumbled, “Still smug as shit as he looked down on the big guy.”

Oh, he remembered that asshole all too well. He had gotten in that crotchety old man’s face and roared and yelled and threatened and unleashed hell on the man until he agreed to medical leave instead of discharge. Anything to keep McCree where he could get help instead of shipping him out to god knew where because he knew at the time that McCree would never stay at home. At least with him still with Overwatch he got that prosthetic arm of his and got treated before more of his arm had to get chopped off.

“ _I’ll try and not cause too much trouble,_ ” He said.

“It’s not you I’m worried about, honestly,” Angela said, “Unlike _some_ people.”

McCree and Hanzo actually looked indignant at the same time.

“Now, I’ve been trying to track down Jack, but he’s been taking it upon himself to stalk the perimeter,” Angela said, making him stab his finger with his needle. He sucked on the bead of dark red blood that swelled up against the skin. It tasted coppery and bitter in equal parts and almost had the consistency of blood. “Are you okay?”

“ _Angela, to be blunt, I’ve been losing my ever loving mind,_ ” He groaned, “ _I’m terrified of how he will react._ ”

“Well you made it past me tryin’ to blow yer brains out,” McCree pointed out, “And look at us now! Come on! We’ll go find him outside ‘nd talk to him.”

McCree grabbed him in that metal hand and started dragging him out, still clutching his coat and cursing his sudden loss of his ability to wraith form. He tried, honestly he tried, but the most he got was a bit of black smoke, so he was left to get dragged outside by McCree and Hanzo following after them looking slightly worried.

“ _Jesse McCree_ ,” He gritted out, black smoke pathetically dripping off his skin.

“I got yer back, Gabe,” McCree said, “Hanzo too, right sweetpea?”

“Yes, because you are doing something stupid again, you foolish cowman,” The archer snipped.

“You love me anyway!” McCree almost sang as he was dragged along.

“Unfortunately, deeply so,” Hanzo groaned, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

* * *

It was dark out as he walked around just outside the edges of Athena’s range. McCree was using his comm device to light their way as they navigated around abandoned roads and hiking up and down sheer cliff drops and sides. He ended up putting his gauntlets on to climb, since McCree had his metal hand and Hanzo had this crazy ninja training that let him climb without trouble. As it got darker, it got colder too, so he ended up putting his coat back on too.

“Now that I think about it,” McCree said as he pulled the cowboy up over another cliff edge, “Yer outfit looks vaguely familiar.”

“ _I fashioned it after Jack’s commander outfit,_ ” He grunted, pulling McCree the last bit of the way.

“I see it,” McCree grinned, dusting himself off, “The wide shoulders and coat length… wait, I just realized somethin’. Jack did the same damned thing!”

“ _What are you going on about?_ ”

“When we were in Blackwatch, you were always wearin’ that hoodie and jeans and those high boots,” McCree drawled on as they walked over a bit of rough earth, “Now Jack wears that old jacket and them cargo pants and them high boots and he’s even wearin’ that belt on his waist like you wear them ammo belts.”

“You both ‘died’ and changed your outfit to mourn the other,” Hanzo said, “If that does not say that he at least mourned your ‘supposed’ passing, nothing else would.”

He never thought about it that way. He always assumed that Jack wore comfort clothing because he was a vigilante and old and did not need to wear the stiff uniform anymore. That old jacket had been a surprise, but even if it was a gift Jack had hardly wore it enough for anyone to really remember it and thus would continue to hide his identity. Had Jack really donned a guide that reminded the old bastard of him? Had he really mourned his ‘death’?

Along their walk, Hanzo suddenly drew an arrow and shot something ahead of them. When they walked a bit more, they found a destroyed drone. Hanzo yanked his arrow out and gave the destroyed bit of tech a hard kick and sent it flying off the edge of a cliff. There was the satisfying sound of metal hitting concrete as the thing broke upon an empty road.

As they walked, Hanzo or McCree would shoot down drones or break some sort of shoddy surveillance system someone had tried to sneak in. They kept up their little competition as they went about it, loudly calling out what number they were on. They fought over technicalities and if ones counted or not, sometimes drawing him into intense arguments to settle them and he tried to be fair but someone always got pissed regardless so he ended up not saying much after too long.

“We’ve been walking a bit, but we haven’t found Jack yet,” McCree drawled after about an hour. The cowboy pulled out his comm device and rang up the good doctor. “Hey Angie, ye sure that the crotchety old man is out here?”

“Last anyone saw him, he was outside,” Angela said over the little device.

“Huh… well we got a few more cameras and shit,” McCree said, “So he might not be out here…”

There was a noise on Angela’s end of the conversation. “Hold on, Winston is trying to tell me something… Winston what is it… what? Where? Are you sure?”

“ _That doesn’t bode well,_ ”

“McCree hold on… Where’s 76 then? What about Hana? I… oh no.”

Oh no. That was not good. ‘Oh no’ was an almost universal sign of things going to shit. What was going to shit on Angela’s end?

“Oh no, oh no, oh no,” Angela rambled on.

“Angie?” McCree asked, concerned as he was.

“Jesse there’s a whole fleet of cameras coming up on the east flank, go! Destroy them! We can’t raise Jack so it’s up to you!”

They all looked each other for a fraction of a second before they were running.

* * *

They saw the drones ambling closer, a cloud of beeping and chiming remote operated little drones with wide shiny camera eyes trying to get close to the base that was only around two more cliffs before it could be seen. They hid behind a rock and watched the mass of drones drift slowly forward.

“Shit… too many fer me and Han to take out…” McCree groaned, “I could Dead Eye ‘em and Hanzo can Scatter Arrow ‘em too, but there are enough that they’ll turn ‘round and see us. The time ta take to reload would screw us over.”

It was certainly a dilemma. Too many for two to take out and the time it would take the two too reload could give the cameras time to turn around and spot both of them and unfortunately for the two them they were unknown in enough circles that they would be recognized. Why did the man with a hefty bounty and the disgraced assassin from a wealthy and powerful crime family have to hook up? Honestly, it could have only been worse if Hana were out here.

_Actually it is worse,_ He thought bitterly to himself, _Both the former Blackwatch Commander and Overwatch Strike Commander is out here with all these cameras._

“ _Don’t mind me,_ ” He said as he slipped his mask back on, feeling both a comfortable familiarity and unsettling feeling overcome him as his vision was narrowed and his face was cradled by the padding inside the mask.

“…What are we goin’ ta do?” McCree asked as he adjusted his mask, “I… Gabe, I don’t suppose you can bring out yer shotguns?”

“ _What about being seen?_ ” He asked.

“Well, we got this rock here… I can throw my hat on Hanzo and shoot under the cover of my serape,” McCree drawled out, thinking by the crease in his brow, “You can sneak over behind them and shoot what we don’t get.”

“ _What if I’m seen?_ ”

“World thinks yer dead Gabe, we’ll blame it on paranoia,”

Very true and honestly perhaps the best bet they had with three well known faces. Not to mention, it was better to reveal them then blow Overwatch’s cover. As much as he wanted to stay with Overwatch and try and write years of wrongs, it was unrealistic and he would still gladly reveal to the world that he was indeed around if it meant saving his friends.

“ _Alright cowboy, let’s do this. Make your shots count,_ ” He said before silently stalking around with a wide breadth of the camera drones.

He silently shadowed the cameras until he threw a thumbs-up to where East and West were hiding behind the rock before crouching down and waiting. With a thought he had his shotguns in his hands and ghosted ammo into them, just like when the first terrible attack had happened and he was still was with Talon. Locked and loaded, he tensed and ready to blow these camera drones to scrap metal.

There was a moment of silence as he waited.

“It’s High Noon,”

Bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang!

“Scatter!”

Twang!

A large number of drones crumpled to the ground, a hole blown clear through them or an arrow jutting through their cores. But that still left a good chunk of drones left, but that was where he came in. Not half a second after the drones struck down by McCree, he was standing with his shotguns in hands and his fingers were pumping the trigger with his same finger breaking speed.

The roar of his shotguns made him feel like Reaper again. It felt awful. It made him think all those dark and shadowy thoughts that once haunted his every step. It made him think of all the terrible things that he had done. It made him think of that brief time before he was Reaper, those miserable months where he was Gabriel and wallowing in his misery and anger. The buck of the guns just reminded him how much they hurt his hands and his trigger finger and his wrists and his forearms. Each bang hurt deeper and deeper until his fingers wavered on his shotguns. 

But he made himself holding, reloading faster than he had ever done in his entire life until everything was crumbled, shot to metal bits with buckshot.

“Holy shit Gabe! That was fuckin’ awesome!” McCree called, jumping out from behind the rock and waving a still smoking Peacekeeper around. Hanzo, wearing McCree’s cowboy hat low on his face, hesitantly poked his upper torso up, still holding onto Stormcaller. “Did you see that shit Han? He never moved that fast back in the ol’ Blackwatch days.”

He snorted and rolled his eyes, dematerializing his shotguns and walking back to them.

“Now you have to say it, dressed up like that,” McCree said with a wide and adrenaline stretched grin, “Come on, say it say it say it say it say it.”

“ _What? **Death comes**?_ ” He sarcastically drawled, “ _Calm down, Jesse._ ”

“Speak of the devil,” McCree suddenly said, “Been lookin’ fer ya.”

He was about to question what in the hell that McCree was talking about when he heard the tale-tell click of a gun cocking and McCree still had Peacekeeper hanging off one finger nonchalantly.

“Could’a used ya back there,” McCree kept on as he heard heavy footsteps slowly moving towards him from behind his back. 

“What kept ya, Jack?”

Suddenly he had it in him to wraith form, forcibly ripping himself apart. It triggered an attack and he blissfully lost consciousness.

* * *

He reformed with a gasp.

“Jesus Gabe, you fuckin’ scared the shit outta me,” Jesse scolded him as the rest of his chest slowly reformed from the thick puddle of thick black smoke. By the looks of it they were inside Angela’s little private operating room again. He wondered what had driven him to mindlessly float here of all places.

“Ya know, I always thought that ghost trick of yers was creepy as shit, but you literally exploded, like one of Junkrat’s explosives only all this black smoke out of nightmares,” McCree continued as his arms pulled themselves free of the puddle of smoke-ified him. Angela bustled in the door, nudging McCree aside to elbow the door quickly shut. She offered him a smile before rushing over to her tools, looking like she was getting ready to do a quick check up on him.

“I swear, there were eyes ‘nd teeth ‘nd shit everywhere, it was fuckin’ horrifyin’,” McCree went on as his pelvis and hips reformed, legs pushing him up as they started reforming quickly after.

“It’s strange that he had one of his attacks,” Angela said as she ducked down, knees almost brushing the swirling puddle of black smoke. Her fingers pried underneath the mask still on his face to touch his pulse point, listening to his reformed heart beat steady away for a moment before she crammed her fingers underneath the edge of the mask and pressed them to his lips. He breathed out once and she pulled away, standing up and brushing herself off. “I thought for sure that once he was balanced again that he would rarely have them, but so close to him being ‘alive’ again I assumed that he would never have them again.”

His knees pushed out of the smoke and he managed to pry the rest of him out of the smoke, the last of it forming the very soles of his feet. He breathed a sigh of relief as he leaned back on his hands, feeling his back lean against something that he assumed was the end of the bed.

“Nearly scared the shit outta Jack and Han too,” McCree chuckled.

“ _As long as I got away from Jack,_ ” He rasped.

Angela and McCree gave him funny looks.

“Uh, Gabe,” McCree said, pointing at something over his shoulder.

Before he could question what in the hell the two were on about, the thing that he was leaning against suddenly moved. Not much, but before he could really react, a pair of arms slinked around his chest from behind. He turned his head and was faced with faded blue eyes.

“I got you in my sights.”


	16. Let's be frank, Jack

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Reyes/Morrison, implied Fareeha/Angela, McCree/Hanzo
> 
> Two old soldiers have a very frank conversation about the past and their relationship and Athena holds true to her name
> 
> I heard y'all like cliffhangers :3c
> 
> Come follow me on [tumblr](https://nevaryadlwrites.tumblr.com/) for updates
> 
> EDIT FEB/22/2017: General typos fixed, filled out a few places

[Comm Channel: Twinks, Twunks And Other Members of GayWatch]

D.VA: I’m just saying that Jack was a twink, doesn’t matter if he’s a silver fox or a silver bear or whatever now. He /was/ a twink. He was modestly muscular, mostly hairless, choppy hair and more importantly /blonde/.  
JRAT: ARE YOU CUNTS CALLIN ME A FUDKIN TWINK AGIN???  
HOGGE: Jamison, you are a hairless, semi-muscular, scrawny blonde. You are a fucking twink.  
JRAT: ROADIE WHAT THE FUCCK  
D.VA: We’re calling young Jack Morrison a twink. We’re trying to figure out who is ‘top’ and ‘bottom’ with him and Gabe since the two are meeting =P  
LUCIO: Why are we debating this?  
D.VA: Because we’re coworkers and thus it’s only natural that we talk about these things???  
LUCIO: Obvies Jack is top  
D.VA: ∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿ Do go on  
MEI: How could you Lúcio???  
LUCIO: >>;; I-I’m sorry Mei it was a joke  
MEI: Obviously Gabriel is a top  
Zarya: THAT’S MY GIRL. The bigger one tops >D  
MEI: That doesn’t mean they’re dom tho  
ZARYA: Very true ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)  
MEI: ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)  
D.VA: Thirsty lesbians aside, do go on Lúcio  
LUCIO: You ever meet a white boy that even mildly has his masculinity threatened?  
D.VA: ㅋㅋㅋ GDI YOU’RE RIGHT

[GABE has Entered Channel: Twinks, Twunks And Other Members of GayWatch]

D.VA: We weren’t talking about you  
LUCIO: He can just scroll up  
D.VA: ┌( ಠ_ಠ)┘  
MEI: Gabriel! How’d your meeting with Jack go? =D  
ZARYA: Did he shoot you like’d you thought?  
LUCIO: Also bottoms are completely respectable and totally can be masculine and awesome >>;;

[HANZO has Entered Channel: Twinks, Twunks And Other Members of GayWatch]

HANZO: …No

[HANZO has changed the channel title from Channel: Twinks, Twunks And Other Members of GayWatch to Channel: Overwatch Chat]

D.VA: You’re no fun >(  
LÚCIO: How did you get permission to do that??  
HANZO: Doctor Ziegler has given me Administrator power and told me to ‘watch’ everyone  
D.VA: UGH WHY  
MEI: Gabe???  
HANZO: She is busy with Morrison at the moment  
ZARYA: Archer, what is wrong with Gabriel?  
HANZO: Nothing he is… staring mindlessly at his comm device…  
MEI: How did the meeting go?

[JESSE has Entered Channel: Overwatch Chat]

JESSE: oh that won’t do

[JESSE has changed the channel title from Channel: Overwatch Chat to Channel: Reap76 OTP]

JESSE: much better  
D.VA: DETAILS COWBOY  
HANZO: You are sleeping on the floor tonight  
JESSE: worth it  
JESSE: bout what little lady?  
D.VA: How’d it go??  
MEI: Is everything okay did they make up?  
LÚCIO: Is everyone still alive????  
JRAT: YOU DO YOU FUCKERS RELLY THINK I’m A FUCKIN TWINK??  
JESSE: hold on  
JESSE: one at a time  
JESSE: it went about as well as two old sngst machines could do  
D.VA: sngst  
LÚCIO: sngst  
GENJI: sngst  
JESSE: you fuckin mudlickers  
JESSE: anyway, everyone’s alive (including gabe)  
JESSE: and yes junkrat you are a fuckin twin  
D.VA: That tells us nothing!! >C  
JRAT: YEAH IT DOES  
JRAT: YOU XUNTS DON”T KNOW A FUDKIN TWUNK WHEN YOU SEE ONe  
D.VA: What’s going on with the two old fogies??!!  
JESSE: they’re cuddlin  
D.VA: THEY MADE UP!!  
JESSE: why they aint talkin and that’s concernin  
HANZO: Gabriel seems to be in a state of shock  
D.VA: gdi and here I was hoping for two more gay uncles :T  
JESSE: hear that han we’re the gay uncles ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)  
HANZO: …  
HANZO: What is that face. I do not like that face.  
D.VA: It’s a Lenny Face ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)  
JESSE: you use it when yer feelin a bit ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

[HANZO has kicked D.VA and JESSE]

LÚCIO: Archer ain’t got no chill

[HANZO has banned the following: ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)]

LÚCIO: kkkkk  
LÚCIO: Anyway is ol Reaps alright?  
HANZO: That is… difficult to say  
HANZO: Only time will tell

* * *

He stared mindlessly at the chat ramble on.

McCree and Hanzo were bickering about the cowboy getting banned. Actually it was more accurate to say that McCree was trying to butter Hanzo up into accepting his apology and letting him back into chat. Hanzo was adamant that the cowboy needed to learn his lesson and just told him that he was sleeping on the floor tonight.

Jack shifted behind him, making him realize that he was wedged between the man’s legs on the bed. They really were cuddling, he thought with a soft wince. But honestly as soon as Jack had grabbed him it had been… _difficult_ to move away from him.

“At the rate that Gabriel’s cells were decaying,” Angela said, bringing him back to the conversation, “He was going to die, though I am unsure of exactly ‘how’ he would have passed. He was suffering from the beginning stages of flesh rot. So it would have been likely that he would have suffered through the different stages of flesh rot until his body literally rotted away. But he was moving and acting without a beating heart so Gabriel might have been conscious for all of it, until he was left with bones that he would be bound too.”

He knew what she was doing. She was guilt tripping Jack something hard, really trying to dig in that he _needed_ to be here idea. But Jack was taking the subtle abuse in stride or not aware of it at all, because he did nothing but ask questions and keep those arms wrapped around him. 

When one moved, he saw a bit of Jack’s ungloved hands and bare arms before it disappeared underneath the breadth of his chest. Pale and molted with scars, bullet, knives, but also shiny burn scars all along the length of his arms, mostly on the outsides. Looked like his arms and hands had come up to protect him from something.. Likely the blast that ‘killed’ them, he had been spared because it had torn him into bloody chunks but Jack… poor Jack.

“What kept him alive?” Jack asked above his head. As the rough syllables tumbled out, the bottom of Jack’s chin bumped the top of his head.

“At this point, how Gabriel kept living escapes any sort of logic and goes into the realms of supernatural. If I would have to take a highly educated medical guess… sheer stubborn will,” Angela said, scratching away on a clipboard, sometimes fiddling with her comm device. “Now at the very least his being follows some sort of logic, except the lingering bits of his Reaper powers and whatever the SEP program did to the both of you, which I still don’t know since those files are far, _far_ beyond my clearance level.”

“Why are his powers disappearing?” Jack asked.

“Once again, no clue,” Angela sighed, sounding more than a little annoyed. She threw him a glance but he had no idea how Jack reacted. “I can only assume his ‘death’ had a part to play in his unusual powers. With his ‘death’ being reversed, it could be taking away the powers that were given to him. But as you saw, sometimes these powers flare up, resulting in…”

“His body being ripped apart, like it was with the bomb,” Jack said quietly.

“I…” Angela said, her eyes opening in thought, “Did not think of it like that. I wonder if it was a part it? The trauma from the blast…”

Angela suddenly turned her full attention to her hand-held, face scrunched in thought as she flicked through something. She hummed and hawed as she thought and looked over something.

“Do they hurt?”

A jolt ran up his spine and he looked up to see that Jack was looking down at him. The visor and mask were gone, replaced with the aged form of the face that he loved so much, faded blue eyes blindly peering down at him. The scrutiny of those faded blue eyes made him wish for his mask but he had lost it when he broke apart to unsuccessfully get away from Jack.

“ _Yes, but not so much anymore,_ ” He said lamely.

The arms around him squeezed a minute bit tighter and for some reason it brought him some sort of comfort. A very weird sort of comfort that put him on edge and made him think he would feel the cold kiss of an assault rifle against a weak point but… comfort.

“Hmm, an interesting note Jack,” Angela said, apparently done with her notes, “But now I must bring up the important manner at hand… are you going to hurt Gabriel?”

“Just so you know,” Jesse said, “If ya do, yer dead ta me…. And purtty much everyone on base ‘cept Winston.”

The moment of truth he felt his breath catch as he-

“Angie, I’m cuddling him, what the hell do you think?” Jack snapped.

Holy shit.

* * *

They got some time alone, Angela leaving to go answer a call from Winston and ol’ East and West left to argue elsewhere about chat privileges and who was or was not sleeping on the floor.

“…Hey Gabe… do you remember much about what happened with the explosion?” Jack asked half a breath after the door had shut.

“ _No,_ ” He said, “ _One moment I was trying to get your dumb ass out of the building and the next I woke up on Angela’s operating table. She told me that the explosion ruined your eyes and then you passed away from your injuries._ ”

“So… did you know your body protected me from the sheer force? You’re the only reason I’m alive today, Gabe,” Jack said quietly, a hand on his stomach idly drawing circles in the fabric of his hoodie. “You ended up saving me.”

“ _You would never had needed saving if I wasn’t a selfish jackass. If I had just thought for a moment about anyone but myself, then I wouldn’t have helped Talon and there wouldn’t have been an explosion in the first place._ ”

“If not you then Overwatch would have ripped apart less than a year later. We were being investigated for corruption and most everyone would have been dragged through the mud for all the shit that was going down behind everyone’s backs. They had enough shit to send a lot of people into a living legal hell for years.”

“ _Still, I almost killed the two of us and then I used my ‘death’ as an excuse to spiral down a very dark path. I became such a terrible **thing** Jack, all because I thought that few people I cared about were gone and that I had nothing to me. I felt like I had nowhere to go, so I went to hell and became a demon._ ”

“You had a lot put on your shoulders and when you started to break and asked for help, the people that put the weight there stood back and laughed at your pain. I know you asked for psychiatric help seven times Gabe, I know you were turned down for no reason or buried it under enough legal bullshit that you let the case die. The higher ups were waiting for you to crack so they could discharge you.”

“ _It’s still no excuse for becoming the monster that I did. I’ve killed a lot of people, Jack, I’ve destroyed a lot of lives, I done a lot of terrible things. I can’t blame all of my sins on being kicked around a little during Blackwatch, being made to do the government's dirty work. Someone can be shaped into a monster but the monster is the chooser of their actions and I chose mine._ ”

“I know, but they did you set up for the fall, they did a lot of terrible things to you, made you do a lot of terrible things in Overwatch's name, we all did…”

“ _Jack, you want to know the worst thing about the promotion? You didn’t fight for me. None of my friends fought for me. You all knew what Blackwatch would do to my reputation and the kind of shit that they would make me do. Everyone was either ignorant, chose not to care or were too damn busy patting your back. It hurt like hell that my friends watched as I got set up to look like the villain and ordered to do all these terrible things in the name of the greater good and you all just… didn’t seem to care._ ”

“I know that now, Gabe. I should have fought for you, I should have fought long and hard for you, Gabe. I... really should have acted like I cared at all. I should have passed over that stupid promotion. It just all happened so fast and before I knew it I had a bunch of responsibilities that I wasn’t ready for, a work load that basic Overwatch or the Omnic Crisis didn’t prepare for me for and... And the worst yet… I lost you.”

“ _I couldn’t stand the thought of you after the promotion. It just felt like you either thought of me as nothing more than a fling or you cared for all the wrong reasons and I was too blinded by rage to care. I just… felt so damned betrayed and thinking about anything only made me angrier. The angrier I got the more I thought why and then I got more depressed. The more depressed I got the angrier I got and it just seemed like a vicious cycle of emotions that made the world black and red._ ”

“I wanted you back but I was so selfish about it. I didn’t take your feelings seriously and honestly, thinking back, I kept trying to get you back like you and what we once had was a _thing_. A useless, worthless thing that could be so easily traded, left behind or thrown away. I was a terrible young man, bull headed, blind.”

“ _We both were. We were never really made to be soldiers, Jack. But that super soldier program ripped our DNA apart and filled it with chemicals and they threw us into those roles… I should have stayed back home, gotten my degree in dance. I should have gone into dance instead of thinking about being a big war hero. I should have fulfilled that stupid childhood dream of dancing around the world._ ”

“Should have been a farmer, raised up money and gone into teaching like I had wanted and then retired to be a farmer again, like my folks before me. But... but then I would have never met you, Gabe. Despite the pain, the small time we had together Gabe and we were happy… I don’t think I would try any of those for anything in the world. If I could go back and do anything different I would have turned down that promotion, I would have quit Overwatch, I would have done _anything_ to stay with you.”

“… _Same,_ ” He sighed.

He wove his fingers in between Jack’s, keeping those familiar hands together with his.

“…It’s years and years late but… I’m so sorry Gabe. I’m so sorry for everything, for taking the promotion, I’m sorry for taking you and our relationship for granted, I’m sorry that I didn’t fight for you. I’m sorry… I’m so sorry.”

“ _… silly white boy,_ ” He sighed, “ _Too old to hold grudges and it’s not like either of us have much besides each other after all these years… I'm sorry too. I took Overwatch from you, I took your eyesight, I carved my mistakes into you like a taboo. I've been the bane of your existence, I've hunted you all over like an animal, I've put bullets into you, I hurt you, I broke your heart and... I'm sorry._ ”

They lapsed into a heavy but comfortable sort of silence as they let each other's words sink in deep. After all these years of feeling like an empty vessel full of boiling pitch and tar that bubbled out in fits of homicidal rage and soul breaking anguish... it felt like there was finally room in his chest to breath and feel his heart beat without trouble. Saying all these things... they would not fix things, not the things he had done wrong, but it at least felt better that he told Jack that he felt sorry, to show him that he was trying to change. Change... after so many years of stagnant and rotting darkness it finally felt good to shed it off.

“… what would you say about… ‘ _us,_ ’” Jack asked almost shyly. It was almost cute to hear the salty old bastard flustered.

“… _You coming onto me, white boy?_ ” He asked, suddenly feeling giddy and eager and kind of childish and his heart was hammering against the inside of his ribs and his hands were shaking in Jacks and it felt like the first time that he caught Jack subtly flirting with him and a spark of interest had formed.

"Yes, you old edge lord,” Jack retorted.

“ _I’m not as pretty as I used to be._ ” He chuckled.

“Neither am I, and I’m also legally blind so I can’t really tell what you look like now without my visor anyway,” Jack said, shrugging enough that he felt it leaned up against him.

“ _…I’m the most handsome devil you ever set your blind eyes on,_ ” He drawled out.

Jack’s laughter was the most beautiful thing that he heard on years.

* * *

[GABE Entered Channel: Y’all Need Jesus]

GABE: … dare I ask?  
ANGIE: you really dont want to know ^^;;

[ANGIE has added JACK to Channel: Y’all Need Jesus]

JACK: What did you do Jesse  
JESSE: why’d ya think it was me???  
D.VA: IT WAS ME, DIO  
GABE: … Hana that’s an old as balls reference, how the hell do you know it?  
D.VA: Wait, you two are in the chatroom, you good??  
GABE: Why do you want to know?  
JACK: Why do you care

[D.VA has changed the channel title from Channel: Y’all Need Jesus to Channel: D.Va’s gay church]

D.VA: QUEERLY BELOVED WE ARE GATHERED HERE TO GAY  
JESSE: hana calm down XD  
D.VA: TOGAY IN PRESENCE OF THESE WITNESSES TO JOIN SALY WHITE DAD AND EDGE LORD DAD IN HOLY GAY MATRIMONY  
ANGIE: um…  
GABE: I don’t wed before the first date, calm yourself  
D.VA: So there’s gonna be a date???  
JACK: If we can help it  
JACK: There is still the manner of Winston  
ANGIE: well get to him in time  
ANGIE: honestly its amazing that the meeting between jack and gabriel went so well especially since we were all so worried that it would go so badly  
JACK: What  
GABE: I thought you would have shot me on sight, white boy  
JACK: No faith?  
GABE: More like I was worried about retribution. I had years of being bad waiting to come back and bite me in the ass.  
D.VA: kinky  
GABE: Goddammit  
JESSE: lol  
ANGIE: please no ass biting in this chatroom  
D.VA: Are you saying that Fareeha doesn’t bite your bum?  
ANGIE: NO!!!  
D.VA: Is it the other way around? ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

[ANGIE has kicked D.VA]

GABE: Mighty defensive of you, Angie  
ANGIE: >////>

[ANGIE has kicked GABE]

JACK: … So I’m going to go be with Gabe  
ANGIE: ALLOW ME

[ANGIE has kicked JACK]  


They were still chuckling about it later.

* * *

Later they got a surprise that nearly dropped everyone.

Angela was trying to figure out something with her notes and ol’ West without East and their resident super internet star with Jack comfortable crammed between his legs and the both of them underneath his heating blanket, already past the jokes about his thick thighs. McCree was fiddling with his comm device and Hana was playing Star Craft on a mobile platform while talking about being away from home.

“Yeah, it’s really weird being away from home for so long,” Hana said as her character wondered around on screen, “I hope I can get a home vacation soon. I’ll stream with my dad again, I miss playing video games with him, and his cooking.”

“My cookin’ ain’t that bad,” McCree snipped, still struggling with his comm device.

“You set the kitchen on fire because you were snogging your boy toy,” Hana pointed out.

“Ah, shut up,”

“Actually, like no one here can cook,” Hana sighed, “It’s kinda of lame. I can’t cook either, but that’s because I’m usually working for the government or inhaling junk food because I just don’t have the time to learn how to cook or cook anything… can you cook, Gabe?”

He was unsure if he should respond right away, but Hana looked expectantly at him. Jack gave him a friendly nudged and picked up his hand long enough to run his scarred lips along his knuckles in a comforting way.

“ _Yes,_ ” He said, failing to hide his memorable voice. Maybe it would come off as ‘croaky’ on her stream.

“I really hope so, I’m kinda of sick of take-out and Reinhardt’s cooking,”

“What’s wrong with Reinhardt’s cooking?” Angela asked without looking away from her notes.

“His strong German cooking is too strong for my poor, weak stomach,” Hana deadpanned while everyone chuckled.

“Speaking of too strong, my computer skills seem ta be too weak fer this damned thing, can someone help me?” McCree grunted, finally fed up with the sleek little thing.

“I can help you, agent McCree,” Athena suddenly chimed.

Everyone froze. McCree’s phone made a ‘ding’ as Athena remotely accessed the little device. Hana’s character died as she remained frozen with her hands on the controls. Jack sat up completely, acting like a meat shield between him and where ever the AI was speaking from. Angela slowly rose to her feet, looking up at the ceiling.

“Is something wrong?” Athena asked, almost sounding concerned.

“…how… why…” Angela said, gaping.

“Please be more specific with your inquiry, agent Ziegler,” Athena said calmly.

“…how are you in this room?” Angela said as Hana quietly shut down her stream.

“I am wired throughout the building, agent Ziegler,” Athena said, still eerily calm, “Accordance to your wishes, I have no means of looking into the room and my hearing is limited and I do not closely monitor the room usually.”

“How long have you known about Gabriel then?” Angela pressed.

He felt his heart hammering away against the back of his ribs and _fuck_ it hurt because he was not used to his heart beating this fast and he could feel stress sweating dripping down the sides of his face and his arms tightened around Jack in some form of comfort. Jack’s arms went back to wrap around him and he found a kernel of sanity and comfort.

“Since the first night, agent Ziegler,” Athena said, matter-of-factly.

 _FUCK_! Black smoke started trickling off his skin as his body tried to break apart in a vain attempt to flee as all stressful situation forced most every sentient creature to do because he sure as hell could not fight his way out of here. But his stupid fucking atoms were fucking stuck together!

“Agent Winston has not been informed about former Blackwatch Commander Reyes,” Athena said, “In accordance with both of your wishes.”

“Wait… you haven’t told Winston?” Jack asked.

“I thought of it and was fully prepared to set the base defenses on him, but I choose to evaluate former Blackwatch Commander Reyes threat level since agent Ziegler seemed intent on treating him. My evaluation was not complete, but I assessed former Blackwatch Commander Reyes at an at most 16% threat rating, significantly lower than some members of Overwatch,” Athena said, “My most resent assessment of former Blackwatch Commander Reyes’ danger level is closer to 9.7%, the third least threatening person on base.”

…what?

“Wait, wait, wait,” McCree interjected, “You have what? Threatenin’ ranks er somethin’?”

“Yes. From least to most dangerous is as follows: Lúcio, Winston, Gabriel, Lena, Fareeha, Bastion, Hana, Torbjörn, Mei, Zarya, Satya, Genji and Hanzo, Reinhardt, Master Zenyatta, McCree, Angela, Mako, Ana, Jack and then Jamison.”

“How is Angela most threatenin’ then me?” McCree said indignantly.

“How am I so threatening?” Angela said indignantly.

“How am I so not threatening?” Hana whined.

“Threat assessment made on loyalty to Overwatch, or a benevolent or neutral party,” Athena said, “More ‘wild’ cards or those prone to their own devices are rated more threateningly, as well as those more prone to violence or capable of more worrying damage. Agent Song’s threat level is so low because she is loyal to the Korean government whom is a benevolent party. Agent McCree is a free agent and while he does hold loyalty to Overwatch he has a habit of sticking to his own devices and ‘does stupid things’ as you have described before. Agent Zeigler has loyalty to Overwatch, but her temperament, medical files on everyone on base and extensive knowledge of human anatomy spell disaster if she were to turn loyalties or lose her temper.”

“T-this is besides the point,” Angela frowned, shaking her head and her hands to keep McCree and Hana quiet for a moment, “You haven’t told Winston because Gabriel is so low a threat?”

“I was also… curious,” Athena admitted, “You seemed intent on giving former Blackwatch Commander Reyes a chance for ‘redemption’ and I had assessed him a low threat risk that it would have been easy to eliminate him if he took that chance for granted or was working with Talon to get into base. My curiosity was sated as it became clear that former Blackwatch Commander Reyes holds no loyalty to Talon and is at least loyal to Overwatch members.”

“…how can an AI be curious?” McCree muttered to Hana only to get elbowed.

“I will continue to keep former Blackwatch Commander Reyes’ presence away from Winston until it is desired for them to meet,” Athena said, “In fact, if the need arises I will speak in favor of keeping former Blackwatch Commander Reyes on base. His inside knowledge of Talon, training, leadership skills and ability to work with our current operatives will prove an asset to Overwatch.”

“… _Did I just get approval from an AI?_ ” He rasped out.

* * *

One last hurtle to go, the person that he was sure would hate him and attack him on sight.

But he was hopeful for maybe the first time in years.

He had his old friends at his back and new ones ready to help him. Even Athena was willing to help him out, that had to give Winston pause. But he had a feeling that even if Winston did not want him on base that he would be alone anymore. He had almost claimed all that he lost with the fall over Overwatch, even Jack, whom he thought that he had lost forever. He would not get that status he got from living through the Omnic Crisis back and he was still technically dead to the world but… some things that were dead were just meant to be dead and he needed to move on.

With Jack in his arms, tangled together underneath his heating blanket, listening to Jack’s relaxed breathing and his cheek pressed against Jack’s wiry hair… for the first time in a long, long, _long_ time he felt relaxed and at peace with everything going on with him.

He pulled Jack close and held onto him tightly, burying his face into Jack's hair.

They all needed to fight a bit harder this time around.

* * *

As Hana played her stream later that night in her room, the Korean soldier focused on her game, the stream screen suddenly twitched and her game of Star Craft was replaced with a purple skull.

“What the…” She said.

Suddenly, a feminine voice with a thick Spanish accent rang out over Athena’s speakers.

“I’m in.”


	17. Hack The World

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Implied Fareeha Amari/Angela Zeigler/Sataya Vaswani, Jesse McCree/Hanzo Shimada, Genji Shimada/Tekhartha Zenyatta, Lena Oxton/Emily, Gabriel Reyes/Jack Morrison, refereed too body horror, old men making out
> 
> One more down and there's still more plot to go. I left the ending of this chapter open for if I want to do smut in the next chapter or take my musey's advice and do a separate one shot for those not keen on smut though no matter what there won't be plot involved so no one misses anything if they want to skip it.
> 
> Thanks for reading, have a lovely morning/afternoon/evening or night pups!

_“WHERE ARE YOOOOUUUUU PAAAAPPPPPIIIIIII?”_

When he was still with Talon, Sombra would sometimes wake him up at inane hours with some stupid shit. Her reasons varied, it might have been because she had found something interesting about someone on base and wanted to gossip like friends or because she was being sent on a mission without him and wanted to say goodbye. Sometimes the reason was ‘just to keep him on his toes’ as she would put it. Mostly he was more annoyed than anything, any threats to dismember her was solely him being pissy from being woken up by some shrill noise she made of her weight landing on him. Honestly, he did not have it in him to care in the long term about one mild annoyance in a long life of misery.

But being woken up by Sombra, so brazenly yelling over Athena’s pilfered speakers, he felt something that he had not felt in a long time, or at least not this keenly.

**_Fear._ **

Honestly, he had dared to hope that Talon had really thought him dead and that the leak was maybe someone telling him that he was fired if he was not dead. He had dared to hope, dared to get his hopes up and now they were crashing down around his ears and his chest, that had been so used to being full on terrible lingering emotions from years ago, was awash with foreign emotions. Fear, anxiety, sadness from crushed hopes and dreams, these things that he had not cared to feel or dealt with in any sizable quantity for years were now making his hands shaking and break out in a cold sweat.

Jack pulled himself free from his grip, robbing him of warmth and his comforting weight, already scrambling to find his visor and the heavy pulse rifle that he had stuck underneath the bed ‘incase of emergencies’. He had nothing to grab, nothing to prepare himself for. What shotgun shells he had he used on the drones and his shotguns may have had the weight to bludgeon someone to death, that was not exactly helpful with everyone and their brother had projectile weapons. That left his Reaper outfit and he was not going to put that on if he could help it.

“Who is it?” Jack asked as he slammed a clip into his rifle.

“ _Sombra, she’s…_ ” He started. _The person I used to file the hole that Jesse had left, also one of the best hackers in the world and also currently in the base,_ “ _She’s with Talon, hacker, one of the best._ ”

“They aren’t taking you, Gabe,” Jack gruffed, visor lighting up and illuminating the darkened room with bright red light, “At least not over my dead body.”

“ _Bad joke, Jack,_ ” He retorted, glaring at him.

“Stay here,” Jack ordered, turning to leave only for his hand to snap out grab onto his arm. The red visor turned to look over Jack’s shoulder to look at him.

“ _Please… don’t leave me here alone,_ ” He asked quietly.

“I’m coming back, Gabe, I promise,” Jack said, lowering his weapon so that one of his hands could grab onto the one latched onto his arm, “I’m going to make sure that this Talon brat can’t take you away, but I’m coming back.”

His fingers weakened and Jack reached out to cup the back of his head with his free hand, encouraging him forward. With that stupid mask and visor in the way, he had no idea what Jack’s expression was, but then he was leaned forward until their foreheads touched and for a moment he felt nothing but the warm press of Jack’s relaxed forehead against his and could heard the even breaths just barely audible through his mask. But then Jack let him go and then Jack was gone, leaving him to a dark and empty room with what felt like a hole in his heart.

* * *

“Paaaapppppiiiii? Paaaaaaaaaappppppppiiiiiiiiiii?”

Sombra looked through all the hacked cameras as she sat before the pilfered console, one hand flicking through her own personal UI floating by her right hand while the other worked to keep the AI under control. The AI was a feisty one, even under her control it kept fighting for control, blasting through firewalls and pretty much _clawing_ and _biting_ back for control. If this were not an unsanctioned smash and grab to get Gabe out of Overwatch, she might have taken the time to steal a copy of the AI for herself.

She flipped through a few cameras and found Gabe’s salty old ex-boy toy Jack meeting up with that blonde doctor Angela and what looked like some cowboy motherfucker. She focused on the camera and turned up the audio to listen in.

“ _Where’s Gabriel?_ ” The doctor asked.

“ _Safe, this is a hack, someone named Sombra,_ ” Jack said.

Wait… how in the hell did he know about her? Hell, not even some parts of Talon knew about her and she worked for the bastards. The only way that he could have known was… were these sick twisted fucks torturing Gabe?! They had two weeks with him, which was more than enough time to break someone and make them nice and complacent. Huh, looked like the heroes were just as bad as the first bunch of Overwatch nobodies, just corrupt assholes with fancy titles and uniforms.

“Where is he?!” She demanded over the speakers, startling the group.

“ _Fuck you, Talon!_ ” The cowboy snapped, flipping off the nearest camera.

“Vete ala verga culero!” She hissed back, “WHERE IS GABRIEL?!”

“ _You’re not getting him!_ ” The salty old white cur barked, “ _So I suggest running with your tail between your legs!_ ”

She wondered what kind of defenses that this AI had planned, it was wired to a lot of the building. When she turned her attention to it, she realized that the AI had almost slipped out of her control. With a growl she buried it underneath more firewalls and viruses before jabbing her fingers deep into her UI and pulling at what she found. Most of the hallways were sadly barren of defenses, and the rooms only had low level stuff that would get shot before it could do damage.

“Stupid fucking AI,” She spat, “Tell me where Gabriel is!”

“ _Who are you?!_ ”

She turned her attention turned to another camera where a giant gorilla armed with a giant tesla-cannon was staring up at the camera. Winston, the gorilla, he was intelligent and he was heading the newly formed Overwatch, though her intel stopped there since the bastard had been born elsewhere and his files actually protected enough to deter even her. Angry eyes glared at her beyond a tiny pair of glasses sitting on his nose.

“Oh, didn’t your operatives tell you?” She chimed, already formulating a plan. Why attack herself when she could turn this shitty little band of heroes on its head and make them tear themselves apart? “Your operatives have been hiding Reaper on base!”

“ _What?_ ”

“Yeah, ‘bout two weeks now,” She smiled, seeing the doctor, ex super soldier and the cowboy deflate on another camera, what the assholes got for holding her friend and doing who knew what to him. “Don’t know what they’re doing with him, but he’s been underneath your nose all this time.”

“ _Winston, wait, I can explain!_ ” The doctor called out.

“ _YOU’VE BEEN HIDING A TALON AGENT ON BASE?!_ ” Winston roared, visibly turning red over the camera, kinda like a steamed beet, which was almost funny if she was not trying to focus on finding Gabe.

“And it’s about to cost you an AI,” She snarled sadistically, digging her hands into the UI keeping the AI shackled, “Hand him over before I rip this thing apart!”

“ _Angela!_ ”

“ _Winston, please!_ ”

“Better hurry~” She smiled.

If she was lucky, these so called heroes would start shooting at each other and it would give her time to focus on finding Gabe or breaking the AI so she could go through its memory banks to see if it knew anything about Gabe. Someone on base had to slip up and tell someone somewhere about the stupid old edge lord.

“ _SOMBRA!_ ”

She turned her attention to yet another camera. Standing just outside what looked like a clinic was her friend Gabe, full Reaper garb and everything. He was looking up at the camera with achingly familiar edge lord intensity.

“Papi! Where you been, I’ve been looking all over for you!” She smiled, so glad to see her edgy friend back, safe and sound, though why he was in that stupid outfit and just standing there was a bit weird, “Your comm was off and everything and I thought you were dead! Head outside and I’ll get an evac to you-”

Gabe turned and ran down a hallway. She tried to scramble the cameras to quickly look for him but found nothing. He had disappeared right underneath her nose!

“¡Hijo de puta!” She seethed, “WHERE ARE YOU?!”

She let the Overwatch losers go and aggressively ran through the cameras, trying to find him. She had access to every camera there was because she had full access of the stupid AI that ran the building, but she could find nothing by just eyeballing it. Dammit, she might have set up a bot to look for Gabriel, but her systems were already struggling to contain the AI and she had to keep an eye on the so called heroes so that they did not get too close to her hiding spot. All of Winston’s damned defenses meant that she had to be close to actually access the AI mainframe, so this really needed to be a grab and run, else they would find her.

“Gabe! I know you’re there, where are you?!” She yelled.

She caught the wannabe heroes moving across a few cameras, the ninja brothers, the meka pilot, Russian strongwoman, security chief, those two bomb fetishists, the ex soldier, but no sign of Gabe. Dammit, dammit, dammit! This was supposed to be quick, in and out so damned fast she left Overwatch spinning and awed at her abilities, spooked them and made sure that they had no idea that she had been on their base all along. She had not expected Gabe to suddenly want to play hide and seek. What the hell did they do to him to make him act weird?!

“WHAT DID YOU DO TO HIM?! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO GABE?!” She yelled.

“ _Brought him back from the dead, you bitch! _” The doctor called out, drawing her venous gaze to where the doctor was, standing beside the angry monkey. “ _I did it! I brought him back from the dead! I brought my friend back, me! I KILLED REAPER SO WE COULD HAVE GABE BACK!___ ”

Killed… Reaper? What the hell was this blonde yelling about? Brought him back from the dead? That was impossible, what dead was dead and Reaper was _very_ dead, cold stiff limbs in all. Was she talking about brain washing him into thinking he was Gabriel Reyes again?

“ _Reaper’s gone, might as well mosey on out,_ ” Her gaze turned to another camera to see the mysterious cowboy now standing with that disgraced older Shimada brother armed with his bow as they raced down a hallway, “ _Only Gabe is left and he’s all ours again._ ”

“Gabriel Reyes is dead! Dead!” She yelled, “Dead in every sense of the word.”

What the hell were these fools going on about? Gabe was a walking, talking corpse that felt too much. He was the same grumpy, pissed off old corpse that brought her under his wing, he was the same asshole that looked out for her during battle and on missions and snappishly shut her down every time she tried to bring up the past despite them both knowing that she knew pretty much everything about his past.

Gabe was dead, dead to his own body, dead to the world, mostly dead to Talon and certainly dead to these assholes.

“ _You can’t have Gabe, face it,_ ” Jack called from another screen, that red visor sweeping the ground as he ran down a different hallway, “ _You’re about to be shut down._ ”

What the hell were these people going on about?!

Suddenly a screen opened itself, revealing Gabe once again, only this time he was standing next to the AI’s mainframe. He slowly approached the sleek mainframe where her bug was stuck too, little more than a speck on the sleek surface.

“Gabe, ¡¿qué mierda ?!” She demanded.

He looked over at the camera, the black holes of his mask boring into her for a moment.

She had never gotten that whole ‘Reaper’ façade. It was never scary, it was never harrowing and it certainly did not leave a dark and broody impression on her. In fact, she had outright laughed at him the moment she had laid eyes on the black leather coat and barn owl mask. Of course, then he had removed the mask to reveal a face littered with bright, bright red monster eyes and a mouth that literally went ear to ear and with teeth like a fucked up shark. True, the creature underneath the getup was a touch on the terrifying side, but she had never been scared of ‘Reaper’.

But as the dark eyes holes bore into her, she was forced to recall all too keenly the memory of first seeing the grotesque visage of the long dead Gabriel Reyes and felt fear for the Reaper. This reaper that reached out with dangerously clawed fingers and so nonchalantly ripped the bug off the AI mainframe and then she realized that she did in fact fear Reaper because he had gone from an edgy, cartoony villain getup to her actual demise.

_Death personified. Her death personified._

Her camera access cut and suddenly her screen was filled with a dark blue icon, a weirdly shaped sort of A. 

“You should not have hacked me,” A feminine voice said, almost sounding murderous before her tech sparked dark blue. 

She quickly cut her connection to the AI but not before the console she had been using to cement her hold over the base crackled with the same dark blue of the logo. The AI fried the machine, overloading it so that when it literally blew up she took the brunt of the damage.

The force knocked her off her ass and cracked her head against the ground, making everything go dark.

* * *

“Systems online, malware scan clean, spyware scan clean, damage done is now rectified,” Athena said calmly, “My thanks for helping me, former Blackwatch Commander Reyes.”

“I still find it hard to believe,” Winston said, angrily cleaning his glasses with a tiny cloth between two massive fingers, “That you have turned loyalties so easily, Reaper.”

He sat on the ground, wrists and ankles cuffed. Next to him was a slightly singed and unconscious Sombra, hands in a special black box casing that kept her hands separated and the tech disabled.

“… _I know,_ ” He said simply.

Nothing good would come out of trying to rile Winston up or being a smart-ass. It was why he voluntarily got cuffed and why he had not fought being manhandled onto his ass in Winston’s room with Athena’s mainframe just in the other room. He had said that if Winston was unhappy with him being here that he would leave without a fuss or fight…

“Winston, please,” Angeal pleaded, hands clutched together before her chest and her eyes teary, “Please… he’s not Reaper anymore, he’s Gabriel… d-do you remember Gabriel?”

“…Gabriel Reyes, former Blackwatch Commander,” Winston said, looking him up and down critically, down his nose at him like he was looking down at garbage and honestly he could not blame the scientist, “A hero turned terrorist.”

“ _…Yes,_ ” He said quietly.

“Winston, luv, please,” Lena tried, jumping between Winston’s mass and himself. Lena never did have much self preservation to her. “He’s honestly changed, he’s been here two weeks, yeah, but nothing has happened! He’s been real good and he’s been focused on healing and he’s made friends with pretty much everyone here.”

“Big guy, I took him home wit’ me,” McCree said, “Showed him to my folks and worst thing he did? A couple of jokes at my expense. He’s changed I tellya.”

“A few good deeds won’t change years of wickedness,” Winston snapped, silencing everyone.

“W-well what about the Shimada brothers?!” Angela snapped right back, abandoning tears for anger, “You called Genji back and even welcomed his brother and they’re trained assassins and former criminals themselves. Not to mention Hanzo tried to murder Genji and yet you let him wonder all over base!”

“Let’s not forget the Australian boys,” Ana piped in, “They’re wanted terrorists too and the worst you do is tell them not to set off explosives in the building. You can’t say one thing for one and then not the other. Let’s not forget half of us are vigilantes and former mercenaries or have killed or committed some crime or another at one point in our lives.”

Under the bombardment, Winston suddenly turned his anger back at him.

“Why don’t you wraith form out of your cuffs?” The angry scientist demanded.

“ _I can’t,_ ” He said simply, “ _I’ve lost most of my powers. I can’t do shit except make an honest attempt to simply break out of them. Plus I told myself, that if you weren’t happy with me being here that I wouldn’t stay. You’re base, your rules. I’ll leave and I sure as hell won’t go back to Talon._ ”

“I don’t want to give you the chance,” Winston growled.

“Winston, if I may,” Athena spoke up, “Might I suggest a solution? Former Blackwatch Commander Reyes is essentially human, and thus, has no means of escape except by physically trying to leave base. I may physically track him with a simple electronic signal. He would remain on base until you decide what to do with him and I can monitor his every move.”

* * *

“Well, at least Winston knows about you,” Angela said from the chair that she and Fareeha had crammed themselves in.

He grunted, scrunching up into Jack’s side as much as he could and watching Hana set up her stream stuff. With Winston knowing about him now and under strict orders to stay in sight, that meant that he could walk around base almost freely. Winston was pissed that the agents knew about Athena’s blind spots and said nothing, so he was to avoid all her blind spots and remain in sight of someone at all times.

Sombra in the mean time was to remain in one of the dusty cells that the Overwatch base still had. Athena was adamant that, despite being hacked by her, would make sure that she was treated humanely until Winston decided what to do with her. Knowing Sombra as much as he did, he had the feeling that the moment that she woke up that she would try and play some angle, trying either to get back to Talon or try and smooth talk Winston into letting her go. Hell, Sombra might make the play to get Overwatch to hire her. She was after all, out for her devices.

So now he was in the Overwatch rec room, Jack, him and Ana squeezed together one couch and most of the younger lot stretched out as they prepared to watch Hana stream for the evening.

“Annnnddd… there,” Hana said. She took a moment to make sure that the camera was set up and the noise was testing okay before she fired up Star Craft and set up her streaming page, the music on the screen picked up as the little chat box off to the side started going. “Annyeong haseyo!” Hana cheerfully greeted.

“ _Never did like the criminal treatment,_ ” He sighed.

“Well it’s more like house arrest,” Ana said, idly tapping away on her comm device, those legs of her stretched out over Jack’s and his laps moving so she could use her foot to poke his stomach, “At least until Athena butters Winston up enough to trust you a bit more. I’m sure everything will be fine, in time.”

He grunted and moved to nuzzle his face into Jack’s shoulder.

“I for one, can’t wait for that,” Lúcio spoke up, “Training missions will go _so_ much smoother with someone with leader experience. I’m so sick of scrubbing duty because of botched training missions.”

“ _Let’s not put me in leadership,_ ” He said quickly.

“What about Jesse, he did pretty well the other day,” Mei asked.

“That was Gabriel,” Hanzo quickly said, making the cowboy deflate.

“That one in the black hoodie is Gabriel,” Hana suddenly said to her stream, “…Heh yeah he’s an edge lord alright.”

He frowned at the meka pilot.

“ _Am not,_ ”

“Are too, you’re dressed up all in black and you still sound like you smoke a six pack a day,” Hana retorted, “You bleed _edge_.”

“ _Can you believe this woman?_ ” He asked Jack.

“You’re my edgy boyfriend,” Jack said flatly, dropping a kiss on his nose.

“ _Ana?_ ”

“So edgy,” Ana smiled.

“ _Angela?_ ”

“’I’m not a psychopath, I’m a high functioning psychopath,’” Angela deadpanned.

“ _And here I thought callouts were so 2010’s,_ ” He snarked, further lodging himself in Jack’s side as everyone laughed around him.

“Wow, I thought you were old, but that’s _old_ ,” Hana laughed.

“ _I’m only fifty six, don’t get any wise ideas, punk,_ ” He quickly retorted.

“Okay, okay not old,” Hana giggled before turning to give him a very smug and sarcastic grin, “ _Vintage._ ”

“ _…Everyone here is an asshole,_ ”

That got some laughter out of everyone before people settled down, watching Hana kick ass on Star Craft or doing their own thing. The junkers joined them after a bit, Junkrat laying across Roadhog’s giant belly like the string bean that he was as he broke apart grenades and hummed some tune. Several times he saw a robotic head sneak peeks from one of the doorways before Genji and Master Zenyatta joined them. The moment they did the brothers got into it though, yelling at each other in their native language.

“They’re yelling at each other about their boyfriends,” Hana whispered aside to her stream.

“Since when do you know Japanese?” Angela asked.

“Mei, she’s teaching me Chinese and Japanese and I’m teaching her Korean when we get down time,” Hana said, “It’s useful to be multi-lingual.”

“Almost everyone here is multilingual,” Angela said.

“What the heck does multi-whatsit mean?” Junkrat asked loudly.

“Being able to speak, or in some cases read, in more than one language,” Angela, “So you two probably aren’t that.”

“Are too! I can read Chinese and ol Roadie here can speak Maori and NZSL,” Junkrat said, almost beaming with pride for the two of them.

“I thought you two were Australian,” Lúcio asked.

“All the good fireworks are imports and you always read the instructions before you strip fireworks down,” Junkrat said.

When eyes turned to Roadhog, who was wearing his mask so no one knew what he was thinking or expressing, he shrugged his massive shoulders and simply rumbled in that rasping thunder like voice: “New Zealand grandfolks.”

“You should listen to him try and say ‘deck’,” Junkrat giggled.

“So… everyone is multilingual but Jack,” Hana laughed.

“What do you expect, I’m from Indiana,” Jack gruffed.

He felt himself crack a smile as everyone took a moment to roast Jack alive. He grabbed Jack’s hand while the vigilante pouted and crossed his arms over his chest. He pressed a kiss to Jack’s scruffy cheek, snickering at him when he only pouted deeper and for some reason it was really cute even on the scarred and aged face.

Satya entered the rec room at one point and though it looked like she meant to pass through, she passed too close to Fareeha and was picked up and squeezed into the chair.

“… _That’s some high tier gayness going on,_ ” He snarked.

“I-It’s none of your concern!” Angela sputtered, turning a bright, bright tomato red and quickly ending the conversation there.

Lena strolled into the room after a bit, but gasped and quickly ran out. It was only until he realized that there was a Lena obliviously texting Emily on her comm device in a chair off to the side that he realized that the Lena that walked in must have been the Lena that was bouncing around the timeline before she zipped back to greet him that day that Ana had found out about him. Seemed like a long time ago now, but it still brought a smile to his face that that Lena was now running back to her own timeline to excitedly greet him.

While it was not ideal, sure, but he was enjoying himself.

* * *

It was bothering him, so Angela walked with him down to the three basic cells where Sombra was.

A Spartan bed and toilet were the only things there and a tray that held a few discarded dried and pressed ration bar wrappers, since her hands still had to be bound it was the only thing she could be given. Sombra was sitting on the bed and staring in a dramatically bored fashion at the wall before sarcastically rolling her eyes over to him.

“Hola, papi,”

“ _Sombra,_ ”

“Come here to tell me what the hell is going on?” Sombra asked.

“… _It’s long and complicated,_ ” He sighed.

“Uh, I got time,” Sombra said, lifting up her bound hands.

“ _You know the powers I had? Wraith form, teleportation, soul eating?_ ” He started, “ _They were caused from my death when I was ‘killed’. Something happened to my cells and they became malleable. I could make them fall apart and become ghostly, like a wraith and I could look like…_ ”

“A boogeyman,” Sombra finished, clearly unimpressed.

“ _Yeah, but with that malleability came a rapid cycle of decay and regeneration. My powers became dependent on this vicious cycle, the way I could break down into my wraith form and move. Something happened to that cycle though and my cells started decaying faster than they were regenerating._ ”

“Cell decay usually means cell death, right?” Sombra asked.

“Correct,” Angela said, “Gabriel was experiencing the first stage and symptoms of flesh rot, though the lingering regeneration prevented long term damage. If he had gone untreated for long he might have experienced actual and permanent flesh rot, lost control of his powers and faced a death that stuck.”

“You patched him up then?” Sombra asked, though her tone was unkind.

“Yes,” Angela snapped right back.

“You’ve been keeping him,” Sombra started.

“ _I stayed voluntarily,_ ” He interjected. The look on her face hurt something deep in him, she felt betrayed and he had expected it but it still hurt, “ _I’m old Sombra, my body may have been pumped with chemicals to make me a super soldier but even those chemicals can’t keep me together for long. I started doubting… everything. I started thinking about all the wrongs I had done and regretted a lot, almost everything I’ve done for the past couple of years. When I thought I was dying it just got so much worse._ ”

“What about all the shit they put you through, papi?” Sombra asked, glaring one-sidedly at him, “They made you a criminal, they destroyed your reputation, they treated you like shit.”

“ _I haven’t forgotten,_ ” He sighed, “ _But you have to realize that Overwatch was doing a lot of bad shit to a lot of people behind everyone’s back. To say that I was the only victim would be selfish and a lie._ ”

“They aren’t gonna accept you, papi,” Sombra said, “Not matter what you do, no matter how you help or even if you save them from something big, they’ll never see you as a ‘good guy’. They may say ‘Gabriel Reyes’ to your face, but behind your back you will always be ‘Reaper’.”

Sombra really did know where to hit it where it hurt and godammit it hurt, especially more since she was right. Reaper would stain him for the rest of his years and some people would always see him as Reaper even if he saved the whole fucking planet from an epidemic and that sucked. As much as he wanted to make up for all his past mistakes there were just some wrongs that could never be corrected, never be forgotten or covered up. Even if everyone said that they were okay with him and willing to be friends to his face… to his back they would always call him Reaper.

“Enough, let’s go Gabriel,” Angela huffed.

“Ey, when is the big guy gonna come down and talk with me?” Sombra asked.

“For Gabriel’s sake, I hope soon,” Angela snapped.

“’His sake’?, I’m just telling it like it is, blondie,” Sombra tisked, glaring at the wall again.

“You’re wrong and that’s the end of it, come on,” Angela growled, grabbing his arm and towing him with surprising strength.

When they were out of earshot, Angela turned and hugged him tight, squeezing him almost painfully tight.

“She’s wrong,”

“ _She’s not, but I appreciate the thought,_ ”

* * *

That night he did not sleep in the little room off to the side, but Jack’s quarters. They were a pigsty, clothes discarded here and there and papers with red string tacked onto all the walls and two crammed full corkboards. The bed looked like it had not really been touched much and there was a desk with miscellaneous parts and tools scattered over it. It smelled dusty and unlived.

“ _Still as sloppy as the day we met,_ ” He snarked, kicking at a discarded black undershirt on the floor, “ _Not really a sexy quality, Jack._ ”

“Haven’t had a reason to clean up,” Jack said, kicking a few things out of the way.

He sank down on the bed and watched Jack quickly pick a few things up. It was almost domestic, watching his boyfriend quickly clean up the room so it was somewhat livable, if it were not for Sombra’s words still haunting him. While he wanted to enjoy the fact that he would be able to finally get some sleep and stay curled up with Jack, those words kept rebounding off the sides of his skull like a swarm of pissed off hornets.

_Behind your back you will always be ‘Reaper’._

Jack tossed the last of his dirty clothing into a corner before adding his shirt and pants, leaving him in only his briefs. Without so much clothing in the way, he saw that Jack’s pale skin was littered with scars old and new. Healed over bullet holes, slashes and cuts, patches of discolored skin, shiny patches of healed over burns from the blast, chunks of indented skin like how a deep bite mark would heal over. When he pulled off his visor and mask he saw that one scar that the old soldier had gotten when they were young and in love and a new one, plus more shiny burn scars along the underside of his jaw and neck.

Jack killed the lights and in the dim light shining in from underneath the door, he saw Jack put his arms out to find him. He held out his hands to guide him, pull him in close and then tug him into the bed, pulling the warm body tight against his. 

Jack’s mostly blind eyes looked over the vague shape of his face. One of his hands hesitantly came up and cupped his cheek, one rough thumb brushing along his temple and brow. In turn he ran his hands along Jack, running his fingers across scars that he did not remember though he had never gotten Jack this undressed before.

He snorted as he realized that it had taken them this long to get undressed with one another.

“Something funny, Gabe?” Jack asked quietly.

“ _Never got you down to your underwear before, white boy,_ ” He chuckled quietly, running his fingers along a patch of burn scars down Jack’s side.

“We sure took things slow,” Jack said quietly.

“ _Yeah… can’t imagine why,_ ” He said, moving his hand to rub along a patch of burn scars along Jack’s bicep, “ _You’d think that two super soldiers constantly under stress would be banging lie rabbits._ ”

Jack chuckled before leaning forward and pressing a kiss blindly to his face. It landed just underneath his left cheek, close to the corner of his mouth. He quickly followed after and pressed a real kiss to the man’s smiling mouth.

“Hate to break it to you, babe, but I don’t think either of us really have a sex drive to speak of,” Jack chuckled quietly.

“ _Did you just…_ ” He paused to kiss Jack’s smiling mouth again, “ _Call me…_ ” He kissed Jack again, “ _Babe?_ ”

“I said ‘Gabe’, you’re hearing is going out on you, old man,” Jack snarked, ruffling his curls.

“ _Only a year older then you, asshole,_ ” He snarked right back, fluffing Jack’s thinning grey hair.

They laughed at themselves for a moment, letting the laughter die down into chuckles and then back to quiet smiles. Jack idly touched his face as he went back to touching Jack’s scars.

“You let your hair grow out,” Jack said after a moment, briefly tangling his fingers in his patch of curls, “Didn’t think you’d have naturally curly hair.”

“ _And Jack ‘I’ll never go gray’ Morrison is a full blown silver fox,_ ” He said, “ _Though I will admit that you look pretty fucking good with it._ ”

“You too,” Jack smiled back.

After a quiet moment, Jack pulled him into a kiss that did not remain chaste for long. Jack’s rough lips moved desperately against his and the warm body pressed against him started to flush with a bit more heat. He felt himself flush in turn and kissed back a bit more heatedly, pulling Jack’s body closer to him. When they pulled back for air, Jack’s blind eyes were blown wide with excitement.

“Don’t think less of me babe, but I might have been thinking about this for a couple of years,”

“ _That’s doesn’t set the bar high or anything,_ ” He chuckled, pressing a kiss to Jack’s jaw.

Instead of answering, Jack claimed his mouth in another kiss and rolled himself over on him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I post updates on what gets written next on [tumblr](https://nevaryadlwrites.tumblr.com/). Come by for checks up or to say hi!


	18. Old Men-(m/m smut, trans character)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Gabriel Reyes/Jack Morrison, m/m smut, oral sex, penetrative sex
> 
> And the smut chapter, I really _really_ hope I have lived up to those smut-efficatios' expectations. For those that don't like smut never fear! There is no plot so you can skip over this chapter without missing any of the story. All you need to know, they banged, there was some fluff, they talked a bit about doing it again in the future.
> 
> Up next chapter: Sombra's fate, the new hero and perchance a spider crawls out of her den. Thanks for reading and have a good morning/afternoon/night pups! liu~
> 
> EDIT 8/15/2017: Edited to make Jack transgender

It felt silly.

They were two grown men, hell, they were two grown _old_ men. They were old enough to have fathered children that would be almost old enough to have fathered their own children. They had been through hell together, and hell apart. They were more old aches and old injuries both physical and emotional then old men at this point.

But they kept fumbling and giggling as they shyly touched one another, fumbling teenagers in the dark rather than old men with more scars then skin. When they fumbled they giggled and took playful swings, when a kiss missed the intended target it earned a playful jab, when his clothing caught he got more ‘edge lord’ jabs thrown at him. When he bit Jack for being a ‘ _jack_ -ass’ Jack bit him back, grinning with his skin between those teeth and those scarred and misted over old eyes playfully eyeing him up. Jack grabbed his ass and claimed it in the name of Indiana and he grabbed Jack’s ass and called it his world, ‘ _Too bad it’s flat_ ’.

“Not all of us have got rocking bodies like you, Gabe,” Jack laughed, ruffling his hair.

“ _You still got the hot dad bod,_ ” He grinned.

“Ugh, don’t remind me how old I am,” Jack groaned through a grin, leaning down to press a kiss to his mouth and then down to his throat, brushing rough and thin lips against his flushed skin. Hopefully he felt warm to Jack, because last he knew he was still a tepid room temperature. Jack sure as hell felt warm to the touch, everywhere that he ran his hands over Jack’s skin felt pleasantly lively underneath his fingers.

When he dragged his knuckles down the length of Jack’s chest, base of his stubble speckled throat, down between his pectorals, he briefly felt Jack’s thudding heart before he trailed his knuckles down the line of Jack’s abdomen. When his knuckles started hitting honey trail, Jack shuddered against his touch.

“ _Cold?_ ”

“…been awhile,” Jack breathed softly.

“ _How long?_ ” He teased, knuckles slowly trailing further down, hitting more silvered hair.

“Ugh, couple of years,” Jack groaned, pressing into his touch.

“ _Hmm, haven’t gone rusty on me, white boy, have you?_ ” He rumbled, grinning when Jack groaned as his little knuckle bumped the raise of Jack's pubic mound and seemingly sensitized flesh.

“ _Ah_ , fuck you,” Jack groaned.

“ _That a request or a suggestion?_ ” He joked, sliding his knuckles just that bit more so another knuckle bumped against Jack’s anatomy.

“Fuck me,” Jack groaned, arching into his touch desperately.

“ _Make up your mind, Jack,_ ” He teased. He was having too much fun teasing Jack and the ex-soldier was not having it based on the blind glare aimed at him. To sooth his boyfriend’s miffed feathers he uncurled his fingers and instead gently brushed his fingers along the edge of Jack's already flushed dick and then swept down to brush along the already getting wetter and wetter front hole of his. Jack's spine and body arched beautifully, trying to proclaim his pleasure and press further into his light and teasing touches. He bit his lip as he watched Jack’s chest heave with his shocked breaths in and out.

He dragged his fingers, gently, up to Jack’s hardening prick. Felt hot underneath his fingers as he took his sweet time exploring the ruddy and wet skin, mapping out there the most prominent sensitive spots were, dragging a single nail along the underside, sliding his thumb along the slight edge where the head met the hood. He watched Jack’s face, blind eyes clamped shut and mouth open as he breathed loud, hot and heavy. He watched Jack’s face for the best reactions, what doing what got what out of him, what made his face flush beautifully. Not much he could do until Jack got a bit wetter, but he got a good _grip_ on what made Jack all hot and bothered.

“ _Haven’t been that long that you can wait a bit more?_ ” He purred against Jack’s mouth as he moved to steal a kiss.

“Yeah,” Jack moaned against his mouth.

They fumbled for a moment, fumbling teenagers long past their expiration date, before Jack leaned over to dig around underneath the bed, putting his back to him. Taking the opportunity, he pressed a kiss to the middle of Jack’s back before slowly trailing his way up, pressing kiss after kiss along his way up to back of Jack’s neck. The skin was just _begging_ to be marked, so he caught skin between his teeth and sucked hard.

“You and your damned hickies,” Jack gruffed at him but arching into the touch.

“ _You got a high collar now, nothing to complain about,_ ” He rumbled, nibbling another little pink mark right next to the one he just made, “ _Mmm, you also wear that skin tight black undershirt that covers your neck._ ”

When Jack twisted back and pulled himself out of his reach, the old soldier had a small clear bottle and a line of shiny foil squares.

“ _Mister ‘I don’t need no damned condom’ Morrison, I am shocked,_ ” He chuckled as Jack used his teeth to rip a condom free and then open.

“One, I was a damn stupid kid,” Jack grunted, giving him a crooked smirk. He shuddered when Jack took a hold of him and started awkwardly shuffling them around until Jack’s silvered head was between his thighs. “Two, you are really killing the mood. Three, a soldier _a good one anyway_ always uses protection.”

He was about to ask what Jack planned to do down there between his legs, but then Jack popped that condom in his mouth and of course he was really worried then because you do not fucking _eat_ condoms. But then Jack winked at him and then that mouth was on his cock and suddenly his brain did not have enough blood to worry about it anymore. A deep and rumbling groan escaped him as Jack worked his mouth around the head a bit awkwardly with that condom still in his mouth, but it only took Jack’s head dropping more to realize that Jack was trying to sexily apply said condom onto him.

“ _Kinky old bastard,_ ” He grunted, gently cupping the side of Jack’s face, rubbing his thumb along Jack’s hollowing out cheeks, “ _Didn’t learn that in Indiana. That’s for damned sure._ ”

Jack’s eyelids drooped as he worked his mouth around the head of his prick, careful and mindful of not accidently breathing in and sucking in the condom, just working the flesh of his mouth as best he could. One rough hand found his hip to anchor himself, the other fisted his shaft as Jack slowly worked his head down, enveloping more and more of him in the heat of Jack’s mouth and working that condom further and further down. He kept encouraging his lover along, rubbing along his face and breathlessly whispering praises as Jack moved lower and lower.

“ _You’re not actually going to go, ahhh, balls deep are you?_ ” He groaned as Jack got close to bottoming out. The hand on his hip moved to grab his ass, really digging his fingers into the meat of his flesh. _Idiot_ he was probably being wordlessly called.

Jack managed to go all the way down, until that five o’clock chin pressed against his scrotum, breathing loudly out of his nose and working his throat around him. He shuddered from the pleasure, of the heat and friction of each of Jack’s slightly troubled swallows before Jack used two fingers to hold down the condom and slowly pulled back up. A combo of the lube included on the condom and Jack’s spit made him break out in goose flesh as coolness came in contact with the heated slipperiness. The blue tinted condom, shiny with lube and spit, was perfectly wrapped around his erect prick. Jack even pinched the air bubble out.

“ _You sure you’re rusty to this?_ ” He rumbled out, not even giving Jack time to respond before he yanked Jack down and kissed the kinky mouth. He grabbed a handful of Jack’s flat ass and yanked him close until Jack's hot and wet flesh ground against his condom covered prick. One hand took to keep Jack’s head where he could kiss the old bastard and the other moved between them to keep things lined up so he could grind against Jack to get him even more excited and heighten his boyfriend's pleasure.

The lube and quality latex rubbed smoothly against one another as they slowly rutted their hips and ground against each other. He licked along Jack’s lips and was granted access to his mouth, groaning when he tasted him, only mildly turned off by the taste of latex and lube on Jack’s tongue. He tasted Jack’s tongue, briefly the old soldier’s teeth, then moved his tongue deep to taste the soft palate in Jack’s mouth and then let Jack have a turn. Jack kissed him like he had been waiting years to do it, firm and needy movements of his lips and tongue, moving against and tasting his mouth, sucking the air out of his lungs until he was twice over dizzy. The rough sounds of pleasure spurred the other on until they were desperately trying to suck non-existent air out of each other’s lungs.

The movement of his hand was not helping. Jack kept thrusting against him, trying to press them closer and closer together and wring out as much pleasure as he could with each thrust. The smooth glide of latex over hard and aching flesh against hard and aching flesh that was just getting slicker and slicker with . Using his fingers he cheated and teased those sensitive spots that he had found a moment ago, really made Jack buck against him, grind and rut against him desperately. Teeth found find lips when a sensitive spot was toyed with, like when he rubbed along the head of Jack’s prick or when a buck of Jack’s hips caused skin to grind against his frenulum.

When they broke for air he _felt_ flushed, he felt hot and bothered and after so many years of being cold or having to be warmed up artificially, it felt amazing. Jack’s face was flush too, a charming dark pink with the blood rushing just beneath the skin. It made his eyes look that much of a softer and more gorgeous sky blue. Damn he still was a looker, even after all these years.

“ _You still haven’t made up your mind,_ ” He whispered against Jack’s open and panting mouth, his own dizziness making him stupidly giddy.

“Asshole,” Jack growled back before shoving him back on the bed.

“ _Aggressive,_ ” He quipped as Jack took up the bottle again. The bottle made an unflattering sound as Jack got a liberal amount on two fingers. “ _What? Not tutty-fruity scented lube? Bubblegum scented?_ ”

“You’re a mood kill, Gabe,” Jack snorted before applying the lube to him. It was cold and he hissed low from the contact of hot flesh and cold lube, condom be damned. Jack sloppily stroked it all up and down his length the sensation of friction and the wet and filthy sounds making him for a moment forgive the sudden cold touch. He forgave him further as Jack took his sweet time getting him all slicked up, doing as he had done earlier and mapping him, idly dragging those calloused fingers along him to find what really got a reaction out of him.

While his lubed fingers moved, Jack leaned over to kiss him again, a slow and languid kiss that was more explorative then heated, taking the time to explore each other’s mouths and then necks when they were breathless again. Sometimes their teeth knocked together and together they slotted their mouths in a more comfortable position. When Jack touched just the right spot he would wordlessly rut into his hands to show his approval. When Jack hit something _really_ good he sank his teeth into his lower lip and sucked hard.

When he was thoroughly coated in thick lubricant, Jack moved as though to straddle his lap.

“ _Hold on, you sure you're loose enough for me, white boy?_ ” He panted against Jack's mouth.

“I think so?”

“ _Jackie, please don't try and hurt yourself, let me... hold on..._ ” He said before kissing Jack’s puzzled mouth. His free hand went looking for the bottle of lube again to get his own heavy dose on two fingers. With his fingers slicked up, one hand once again claimed the back of Jack’s head to keep him there and the other went down to cup Jack softly before rubbing softly.

Jack jumped when he ran his cold fingers from his prick to his front hole, feeling the flesh jump underneath his fingertips.

“ _Easy Jackie-boo, easy,_ ” He chuckled softly before soothing him over with another deep kiss. While his pushed his tongue into Jack’s mouth, he dragged his slippery fingers up and down in the flushed and ruddy lips of flesh before once again slipping between them. He warmed the lube up by slowly rubbing up and down Jack’s flesh, passing nonchalantly over the clenching and growing wetter front hole of his, not being able to resist teasing Jack a bit more.

Several passes later and finally he pressed a single finger against Jack's hole. Jack clenched underneath his exploring finger as he stroked and pressed against the clenching up hole, getting him to relax and test the tautness. Jack kept tense for several moments before finally relaxing, allowing the tip of his finger to wetly sink into tight heat.

“ _Easy, easy, relax Jack,_ ” He gruffed out between kisses.

“Mood killing asshole,” Jack grunted back, biting his lower lip.

“ _You still love me,_ ” He joked.

“So much my heart hurts,” Jack breathed against his mouth.

Oh shit, that got mushy quick. He face started burning for a completely different reason and his heart thudded against the back of his ribs. He ended up burying his face in the side of Jack’s neck to hide the blush. Jack took to smothering affection with his mouth to the side of his neck and head as he refocused on the task literally on hand.

He worked the tip of his fingers around just the inside, getting Jack used to the feeling. When Jack did not tense so much, he eased a bit more in, sinking into the tight and clenching heat. He pressed a kiss to Jack’s shoulder and pressed further in, stopping when Jack tightened down or a pained noise escaped the man above him. Further in he pressed until he had base knuckle deep inside of him. He basked in the tight heat clenching down on his finger, a shudder running up and down his spine when he thought about that heat wrapped around his prick before he started working his finger in and out.

“Fuck,” Jack moaned against his neck.

“ _Mmm, so tight for me Jack, so warm and wet,_ ” He murmured against Jack’s ear before kissing the soft shell, “ _Trust me, we’re just getting started._ ”

“You sound experienced,” Jack said, sounding relieved.

“ _I did have a wild young adulthood of experimenting,_ ” He teased.

“Who’s the kinky bastard now?”

“ _Still you,_ ” He chuckled.

He worked his finger in and out of Jack, first getting his old soldier used to the feeling, whispering endearments and encouragements as Jack leaned against him and moaned throatily against him. When he could easily slide a single finger in and out, he used a second slippery finger to rub against the softening and loosing hole. The slippery digit rubbed for a moment, giving Jack a moment, then was pushing in alongside the first.

“ _Goddamn, I can't wait to fuck you good and hard, Jackie,_ ” He rasped against Jack’s ear.

Jack bit him in lieu of a response, pressing his teeth into the skin until he was sure that he would be left with red and purple bite marks along his neck. What he got for the field of already prominent red and pink hickies decorating Jack’s neck and shoulders, he supposed. There was a quip about him being the mood kill on his tongue but instead he briefly licked Jack’s ear and then started working in that second digit.

The lube made the movement nice and easy, even with Jack’s tightness. The heat still made him want to plow Jack’s brain outs, but he was not about to ruin this first bout of sex for them by short changing Jack's foreplay. Not after all these years, not now. He sucked a mark on Jack’s neck when he worked the two fingers in and out of the tight heat, slowly opening them and spreading them apart, crooking them to rub along the warm flesh, pulling out to just his fingertips and then quickly thrusting them inside. The lube had lost some of the slickness as he kept working his fingers into the tight heat of Jack, dribbling down his hand as he worked. But goddamn Jack was so goddamn wet now, his wetness filling his palm and dribbling between his fingers and down his wrist as he worked.

Jack rutted his hips against him, pressing his fingers deeper into him desperately.

“ _Eager,_ ” He rumbled against Jack’s mouth.

“I’m old, get on with it,” Jack panted against his mouth.

“ _Think you’re ready?_ ”

“Y-yeah,”

The bottle was pressed into his hand and he refreshed the lube still on him and added a bit inside of Jack before finally pulling Jack in so that he was straddling him. Their pricks pressed together and then Jack was lifting himself up just enough that he could take himself in hand and press the head against Jack’s prepared hole. A small groan escaped him when the slick heat pressed against the head, so prominent even through the condom. The groan got throatier and more growl like when Jack started to lower himself onto him.

A combo of gravity and the foreplay made it an easy slide. Jack’s hands were on his shoulders and his hands were on Jack’s hips, giving Jack the comfort of control as they moved him down together. The heat made him breathless and a bit dizzy, the tightness made shudder after shudder run up and down his spine. It feels amazing and he almost silently curses himself that he never bent Jack over some hard surface when they were younger. One of many regrets, but he thinks he can live with this one as he sinks deeper and deeper into Jack. Jack, much like the stubborn ass that he was, instead of stopping if it got a bit too intense of painful for him, knocked his shoulders back to knock his head back enough kiss him. Their teeth hit together with a painful ‘ _clink_ ’ and then Jack was slotting their mouth in a much better way that he could taste his mouth with deep swipes of his tongue.

He was so busy with Jack’s tongue in his mouth that he barely noticed when Jack sat himself in his lap, bottomed out. Only when Jack clamped down on him and his hips subconsciously rocked up did he come out from the sloppy make-out. He swiped the drool off Jack’s chin and carefully watched his flushed face for any signs of pain or discomfort.

“ _You good?_ ” He rumbled against Jack’s mouth. Jack bit his lip in response, almost breaking the skin, so he worked his hips and got himself that much deeper inside of the old soldier. Jack shuddered from head to toe with that, grunting roughly against his wet mouth.

They stayed like that for a moment, letting Jack adjust and him just basking in just the simple but exquisite heat and tightness of Jack’s body. He kissed him to soothe him over, distract him as his body adjusted, tasting his mouth and breathing the same heated air between them. His hands moved across Jack’s scarred skin, touching and soothing what he could reach, feeling him move as he relaxed. Jack’s hands came up to the sides of his face, holding him there and rubbing calloused thumbs across his cheeks.

Breathless again, they broke to suck in fresh air before Jack knocked their foreheads together. They were both slightly sticky with sweat and Jack felt feverish against his skin.

“Don’t make me wait any longer, Gabe,” Jack panted.

“ _You good then?_ ”

“ _Very_ , now… move.”

Together they moved. Both of his hands on Jack’s hips and Jack’s thighs, bunched up on either side of his own hips, pushing up. The slide of heated flesh against him stole his breath away, made him bodily shudder. Jack groaned against his mouth, shuddering against him as they moved him up, all the way it was just the tip inside of him and then they were pressing him down onto him. Back into the encompassing heat, sliding down with ease until Jack was back flush in his lap. He pressed a kiss to Jack mouth and looked into those blind eyes.

“ _Knees okay, old man?_ ”

“Nice try, my shoulders and wrists are going first,” Jack gruffed.

He chuckled before pressing a quick peck to Jack’s frowning mouth. Jack muttered something against his mouth, something about being a mood killing asshole, before he rocked his hips up. Jack groaned against his mouth, moving his hips in his own way, before those bunched up thighs were pushing him up again. Hands on Jack’s hips, he helped him move up and down, slowly, agonizing at first to get Jack used to the movement and draw it out. Jack’s nails found his shoulders, digging in just hard enough that he knew he would have a mess of red and purple crescent nails bites along his skin, joining the litany of marks that they had left on each other’s skin.

A rhythm was built, slowly but surely, as they got Jack worked through the tightness. Jack was not joking about his knees being okay, especially when he slipped himself into a squatting position as they started to move faster and faster together. As it got less awkward and more desperate for movement, he dug his nails in until they bit into Jack’s skin to get a better grip. To move him faster up and down, to get at that friction on him that made him rumble out moan after moan against Jack’s tempting mouth. To hear those sweet and intoxicating moans rumbled out of Jack’s chest and swallow them up. 

As they got faster and faster, the slap of their sweaty skin got louder and the slight wet sounds of him pushing in and out of Jack’s writhing body. Their moaning got louder as well as they got closer, their coordination a bit off as they tried to focus on pleasing the other and their own pleasure. When Jack rolled his hips desperately forward, eager for more pleasure, he was happy to oblige. One of his hands strayed to catch Jack’s prick, rubbing along the wet and ruddy skin begging for attention. He grinned against Jack’s heated kisses when he jerked, clearly not expecting that, sucking down his moans when his pleasure was heightened.

He was rubbing his thumb along the head of Jack’s prick and languidly sucking on Jack’s tongue when Jack jerked hard against him. The question of 'what was wrong' teetered off as Jack clenched hard around him, moaning deeply against his mouth as Jack's prick throbbed between his fingers. The pace tittered off as Jack’s low and rumbling groans switched to slightly uncomfortable whimpers, slowing down until Jack was seated on his still aching and hard prick. He was unsure of what to do next, he knew sensitivity after an orgasm could be a bitch and if Jack was as ‘rusty’ as he claimed…

Before he could ask if Jack was alright, teeth found his lower lip so hard that they almost drew blood.

“Keep going,” Jack growled weakly.

So he started thrusting up again, jerking up into Jack’s body while sensitivity prickled along his skin. He was close, so close and he kept sucking down Jack’s weak voice with each fevered kiss. He wrapped his arms around Jack’s torso, holding him close he got closer.

“ _Jack,_ ” He moaned.

Jack kissed him hard and hot, digging his fingers into his sweaty curls.

“Gabe,” Jack groaned.

He found himself cumming from that, a deep and possibly sub-human like growl that he swore he did not think himself capable of anymore, filling up the condom as he thrust a few more times into Jack’s hot body and then slowed to a gentle stop. He shuddered in post orgasm bliss for a moment, suddenly aware of how sweaty he had gotten and just how stinging some of the marks on him were and definitely buzzed from the endorphin rush. He caught his breath long enough to kiss Jack again, the ex-soldier kissing him back sweetly and slowly before they had to break to catch their faltering breaths again.

Gently he slid out of Jack, all too keenly feeling the gross fullness of the condom as he slid out of the heat. When he got Jack to lay down with his head on the pillow, he quickly pulled it off while squeezing his fingers to get most of the cum off himself in the process. He gently checked on Jack, looking him over as he panted and laid sprawled out on the bed, legs spread to give his junk a moment to cool down. Flushed, breathless and definitely sensitive, Jack looked fine for the moment and deliciously wrecked.

The hickies along his own neck had already blossomed into a field of red marks accented by small red teeth marks. His lower lip was marked with his teeth and a bit red and swallow as well. Maybe it was a good thing that neither of them had any real sex drive to begin with… He licked his lower lip and sucked down a wince when his tongue moved over where Jack had bit him. Felt sore and tender and stung like a bitch. When he rolled his shoulders the nail marks that Jack had left there started stinging like a bitch as well. Yep, a very good thing that they had no real sex drives, he did not think that their old bodies could take this very often.

“ _Jack?_ ”

Two sweaty arms wrapped around his neck and pulled him in close. Settling on top of him, Jack fumbled with his mouth before settling on kissing his chin.

“ _Was it good, boy scout?_ ”

That got a breathless chuckle out of the old soldier.

“Yeah babe, it was good,”

He pressed a kiss to Jack’s mouth, a soft one, mindful of the still stinging bite marks.

“ _Guess it’s a good thing we’re old men, I don’t think I’d survive something like that anytime soon,_ ”

“Same,”

He kissed Jack’s eyelids and then his sweaty forehead.

“ _Hmm, wouldn’t mind doing it again in the future though,_ ”

“Definitely, we’re not _that_ old yet,”

“ _You can even top me next time if you want too,_ ”

“Huh, really?”

“ _Not a greedy man, Jack, and maybe we can take care of that ‘rusty’ problem of yours,_ ” He paused to kiss Jack’s mouth, “ _Besides, I at least owe you a blowjob for that kinky condom trick of yours._ ”

“It’s not that kinky, you old fart,”

He chuckled before kissing Jack again, nuzzling into the side of Jack’s neck as Jack’s arms squeezed him tight and kept him there, warm and safe.

“…Gabe I love you, but uh…”

“ _STD tests from Angela tomorrow?_ ”

“N-nothing against you, I swear but…”

“ _A good soldier gets tested if they’re sexually active, and with our age, we really can’t afford to be sloppy or careless,_ ” He kissed Jack’s mouth, smiling, “ _I know you enough to know that you’d never be a dick like that to me._ ”

He broke away from Jack’s arms to grab a blanket and throw it over the both of them. Jack’s head found itself underneath his chin and their bodies just slotted together perfectly. His fingers gently touched Jack’s skin as the old soldier dozed off on him, just enjoying that he had Jack back and could touch him like this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I post updates and chat a bit on my [tumblr](https://nevaryadlwrites.tumblr.com/) so come by to stalk progress or say hi!


	19. Talons Deep

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Gabriel Reyes/Jack Morrison, Fareeha Amari/Satya Vaswani/Angela Ziegler, Jesse McCree/Hanzo Shimada, Genji Shimada/Tekhatha Zenyatta, implied Mako Rutledge/Jamison Fawkes. Instances of chatlogs, trans Hanzo, trans Junkrat, trans D.Va, mentions of past suicidal depression/current depression
> 
> Overwatch 'hires' a 'freelance technical expert', introduces a child prodigy and a Omnic tank and no a single heathen on base can cook without giving someone heartburn. Such is the life of Overwatch agents.
> 
> EDIT 8/15/2017: Editted to make Satya, Reinhardt, Morrison and Lucio transgender

[Entering Channel: LEARN TO COOK YOU HEATHENS]

D.VA: I’m a growing girl, eating Lúcio-Os for breakfast every morning isn’t good for me D:  
REIN: I can cook!  
D.VA: I’d rather NOT have heartburn for the next three days D<  
GABE: … Did I miss something?  
D.VA: No one can cook and those that can are physically harmful to people’s health  
D.VA: Also Genji short-circuited his master last night, something about weird cyborg robot interfacing sex  
GENJI: HANA  
ZEN: Oh dear  
D.VA: Also Hanzo saved a horse last night and can’t walk, something about ‘it would have been easier to ride the horse’  
HANZO: HANA  
JESSE: what are in tarnation hana??  
D.VA: WHICH ALL PALES IN COMPARISON THAT WE’VE GOT A BUNCH OF PEOPLE THAT DON’T KNOW HOW TO FREAKING COOK  
GABE: …  
GABE: Want me to come out and cook breakfast?  
D.VA: Please, I’m a starving child in need  
GABE: Shower first, need to get Jack up  
D.VA: Was there just something in the air last night that I missed? Is this what I get for being an ace lesbian? What’s next, Angela, Fareeha and Satya had a hardcore lesbian three-some last night?  
ANGIE: good morning everyone, sorry for waking up late  
FARA: It was my fault, sorry!  
SATYA: And mine, please excuse me.  
D.VA: Oh my god

* * *

The kitchen was more stocked with pre-packaged food, junk food and generally less raw ingredients then he would have liked. It was probably a combo of the sheer number of people that did not know how to cook and people being too busy to cook all that often. But he managed to plan out some sort of meal plan and even had Jack in the kitchen with him, wearing his visor so he could see while most everyone waited on him.

The kitchen had one of these big windows in one of the walls and a counter so that whoever was cooking could easily transfer finished product out to those waiting and a small-ish area with tables set up. While he started cooking, people chatted and idled while they tried to wake themselves up for the day, Hana turning on a vid-com and impatiently flipping through channels.

“ _Why do we have this big ass coffee machine?_ ” He asked, throwing a look at the clunky behemoth that consumed a corner of the kitchen. The size though was not what drew his eye, what drew his eye was that that corner seemed to stink a lot less of smoke then the rest of the kitchen.

“Because it can brew three pots of coffee at once,” Angela yawned as she stepped into the kitchen. She ducked down and banged around in the cupboard to bring out three glass coffeepots and a couple tins of coffee grounds. She started brewing away as he gave up on the cupboards and started raiding the fridge.

“ _No wonder no one fucking cooks, there’s hardly anything here to cook with!_ ” He tisked loudly as he tossed a few things on a clear bit of counter.

“We need to do a supply run here soon,” Angela said sleepily, “We can probably get someone to do it after Winston introduces our new member.”

“Someone new?” Jack asked for him as he dug through the fridge in a desperate attempt to find actual food.

“Well, technically two people, but yes, the two should be by anytime. You’ll be able to tell right away which one is the fighter.”

The Shimada brothers and their lucky lovers came by after he had started cooking, Zenyatta actually walking instead of floating and Hanzo being carried by McCree. If he did not have a hot pan and sizzling food he would have joined the group as they immediately started ribbing the four, instead he just chuckled with Angela and Jack as they listened in. Thankfully, for the four operatives, there were not _that_ many jokes that could be made at their expense so they did not need to deal with it long.

The Junkers came in as Angela was setting out some of the coffee pots, because apparently they had heard something about free food. Bastion joined them, though it seemed common place for the bastion unit to simply hang out with everyone during meal times. After Angela had made several lattes for various people, Winston and the new operatives finally came in and… Angela was not kidding.

“Efi Oladele and Orisa, these are your new coworkers,” Winston said, shoving up his glasses.

“Hi!” The girl, perhaps eleven at most, smiled at everyone.

“Greetings!” The four legged and massive Omnic chimed.

“Everyone this is Efi Oladele and Orisa, our newest operatives,” Winston said, “And to assure everyone, no, Efi is not going to be going in active combat, that is Orisa’s job. Efi is here to maintain and keep an eye on Orisa. Also they will be operating mostly out of Numbani, so you will likely not seem that often. Why don’t you two get acquainted with everyone? It looks like everyone is setting down for breakfast…”

Winston looked to the kitchen and saw him and frowned deeply. Still mad it seemed, understandably, but the scientist said nothing about him. Winston just stomped out of the mess hall with a growl, leaving Efi and Orisa to greet everyone.

Efi immediately hit it off with Mei and Lúcio, as it seemed that she was big fans of both of them. In turn, they told her that they were big fans of her in turn so the three excitedly chatted about music and research while Orisa looked around. The weird four legged creature seemed a bit shy and unwilling to talk to anyone without Efi with her, until McCree muttered something.

“I am not a horse!” The Omnic tank snapped, the little lights that served her as her eyes slitting to thin bands.

“Four legs don’t mean that something’s a horse, cowboy!”

“…what is a ‘ _cow-boy_ ’?” Orisa suddenly asked, eyes going back to full circles.

Jack thumped his back as he silently choked on his laughter.

* * *

It was an unspoken rule between everyone to avoid any topics above PG-13 around Efi. Not that she was not smart and would not understand it, but more not to expose her quite yet to some sensitive adult topics. Not to mention, in light of recent activities that it seemed a rather large number of Overwatch operatives seemed to have indulged themselves in last night, it was honestly best to save her young mind from their combined nastiness. McCree, Hanzo, Genji and Zenyatta seemed ever so grateful as their sex lives were kept on hush-hush at least until Efi was out of ear-shot.

While Angela filled Efi on operations, as well as what some of the operatives did outside of combat, Orisa busied herself with talking with Bastion. The Omnic tank seemed ever so fascinated with the tank, even more so by Bastion’s little bird friend just as Efi seemed fascinated by the multitude of skills, combat aptitudes and general diversity of Overwatch’s operatives.

“I never expected Overwatch to work with Omnics,” Efi smiled.

“Well we try… some are still a bit leery of our robotic coworkers,” Angela sighed before throwing a hard glare across the table at Hanzo, the closest Omnic hater to her. The archer looked elsewhere as he sipped his drink. Torbjörn, who sat on the archer’s side not claimed by their resident cowboy, did not even have the decency to look ashamed of himself. He just huffed loudly and muttered something underneath his breath.

“I hope to become good friends with everyone here,” Efi grinned, “And Orisa too, right?”

“Yes!” Orisa perked up, Ganymede bouncing around on her tusks.

“She still looks like a horse,” McCree muttered low.

“Please don’t ride her,” Hana said, giving McCree a hard look, “That’s what Ha—“

McCree quickly swatted the meka pilot upside her head with his hat. Every time she tried to continue McCree kept smacking her with his hat until she got the point, her hair a disaster and a just about choking on laughter, but having given up the joke. Efi, the sweet child, just gave an ‘I don’t understand’ tight smile before going back to the last bits of her breakfast.

“I look forward to working with you two ladies and becoming friends as well,” Angela beamed at the progediy.

“Thank you, doctor,” Efi smiled back.

He got up to get himself another cup of coffee since the beast of a coffee machine seemed to be chugging away still.

“ _Want another cup?_ ” He asked Jack.

“Yeah, thanks babe,”

“Gabe the babe!”

He was not proud of the noise that came out of him as a pair of arms wrapped around him from behind, or the noise he made when he scrambled to get the person off of him. Nor the look he gave Sombra when she ducked out of the way and stood there and stuck her tongue out at him.

“ _ **SOMBRA,**_ ” He growled.

“¡Hola papá!” Sombra grinned.

“Who’s she?” Efi asked.

“No one,” Everyone said as he dragged the hacker towards the kitchen and at least partially out of Efi’s hearing range.

In the kitchen he let Sombra go to fold her arms over her chest. Her tech was still in place and she was not wearing the cuffs anymore, though he noticed a distinct blue tint to her usual pink and purple garb. He wondered if the odd coloring was a lingering side effect of Athena attacked her or a personal choice, because he was certain it was too navy blue to be ‘Overwatch blue’. Plus Sombra had never had a taste for the convention uniform.

“Hey, I can watch my language around the kiddies,” Sombra said, exaggeratedly waving a hand around.

“ _Not that and you know it,_ ” He growled low.

Sombra managed to look sympathetic and understanding.

“I have an arrangement,” She said simply, “I work for Overwatch now, papi. I’m Overwatch’s, and I quote, ‘technical specialist’.”

“ _Just like that?_ ” He asked, skeptical.

“Just like that,” Sombra shrugged, “It’s not like I _really_ worked for Talon so much as I used their resources and used them for entertainment. Honestly, I was just having fun doing whatever while I was using Talon connections to get what I wanted. You know that mission in Russia to assassinate that one dama? Katya Volskaya?”

“… _You didn’t kill her…so I assume she’s safely where you left her and you’re using her?_ ” He said with a roll of his eyes. Honestly, he was never surprised, Sombra always seemed to have her own barely hidden agenda.

“Yeah, got a whole web of Russian informants because of her,” Sombra smirked, oh so proud of herself, “The big gorilla said he’d share contacts with me if I caused my special brand of chaos and confusion at the _enemies_ of Overwatch. He also promised a few favors for a few less then savory favors for him.”

“ _Winston… do something less then savory?_ ” He snorted. 

Winston did not seem like he had a bad bone in his body, a hell of a homicidal temper sure, but not a bad bone in that bid body of his. Then again, he had thought that for a lot of seemingly good people only to find out that a pretty surface could hide an ugly center.

“I know, right? But it’s like real low-key, just blackmail _in case_ certain things come to pass,” Sombra grinned at him, “And it was so damn easy that you could hardly call it a favor. You’d be surprised what crusty old white men just leave lying around when they think they’re being sneaky.”

Sombra swung her legs and pushed herself off the counter before stepping towards him and playfully punched his shoulder. She had a rather open and honestly smug grin firmly in place on her face.

“So… we’re working with the good guys now, but don’t make a big deal out of it, we still got our reputations to take into account. Right papi?”

* * *

Sombra immediately got into it with Hana and McCree.

His protégés seemed to immediately and wordlessly decide that they would enter a sibling sort of relationship and started bickering and trying to outshine the other. McCree claimed loyalty and history and Sombra claimed aesthetic and skill. They got into it in Spanish to spare Efi’s poor ears, though he had a feeling that she knew anyway, and tore each other a new one over the smallest things until he felt like an actual father listening to his children get into an inane fight about the other breathing wrong.

After a solid two or three hours of this, Winston finally called away McCree, Hanzo, Lúcio and Satya for some mission that the scientist was planning. Without the cowboy to entertain herself, Sombra joined the few that had gathered to watch Hana stream Star Craft for the late morning. Then Sombra, who had apparently decided that Hana was just the cutest thing to walk the planet, kept getting shot down by said meka pilot.

“I don’t date girls that cheat at video games!” Hana snapped.

“I don’t cheat at video games, chica,” Sombra whined.

“YOU HACKED MY FREAKING ACCOUNTS!” Hana snapped loudly, hardly giving her a glance over her shoulder, “Hack3r5Lyfe? Yeah, I know that was you! How did I know? Because _chica,_ you’re dressed like a lame hacker from some 1970’s hacker themed vid. You cheat at video games and that’s my biggest freaking turn off.”

Sombra seemed crushed, even more so when she saw that he was using Jack’s shoulder to hide his laughter. She huffed, crossing her arms over her chest and pouted, but ultimately she gave up on flirting with Hana.

“ _I don’t think you need to worry about your reputation anymore,_ ” He laughed.

“Pendejo,” Sombra muttered.

“I understood that one, put a dollar in my tip jar!” Hana snapped.

* * *

[Entering Channel: Groceries R Us]

JESSE: han didya get the milk and other dairy stuff?  
HANZO: Yes.  
JESSE: great, found the milk but lost lena, ana and hana  
JESSE: where the hell did they go?  
LENA: I found the cutest teddy bear in the candy aisle!  
LENA: I’m getting it for Emily~  
LENA: And then getting the boxed stuff you told me too  
JESSE: now ana and hana  
D.VA: Ugh, ignoring Sombra and getting all the bread that Gabe put on the list  
HANA: She keeps texting me trying to be friendly  
JESSE: she still buggin you bout datin her?  
D.VA: No…  
D.VA: She’s apologizing for hacking my accounts so it’s not awful  
D.VA: …And she is kinda hot  
D.VA: But I still don’t date hackers  
D.VA: … But she is pretty adamant that she doesn’t cheat at video games  
ANA: hana, sweet child, please have your gay crisis /after/ you have gotten my garlic bread  
JESSE: where the hell are ya ana?  
ANA: Retrieving sliced meat from the deli and grabbing several vegetarian things for Mako  
HOGGE: Thanks  
JESSE: great, everyone accounted fer, meet up in the junkfood aisle when yer done  
GABE: I’ll make something yet out of that kitchen at this rate

* * *

“ _So… what did our mutual Talon friend think about you leaving?_ ” He asked Sombra, as he threw together some semblance of actual food for lunch. A little something as the remaining operatives as they waited for the shopping team to get back and tide them over until dinner.

“Didn’t tell anyone, but she didn’t seem that broken up about you missing or Talon declaring you dead. I guess it’s that whole, ‘brainwashing’ thing and whatever they did to make her that striking purple color,” Sombra sighed, twirling a lock of hair in between her fingers. She was sitting on a clear bit of counter and watching him, the tech in her hands not really made to handle raw food.

“ _Poor Amélie,_ ” He sighed, chopping tomatoes for sandwiches, “ _I still remember how she used to be when she was just a happy housewife._ ”

“What was she like?”

“ _Just from what I gleaned from the few times she dropped by the base? She was… happy, always smiling and singing. She loved smothering her husband with affection and she was just such a happy person. Gérard loved talking about how much he loved her, the vacations they went on, the stuff they did together. It was hard to find a better thing then the one those two had._ ”

“I thought you said that Tracer and her were dating back in the Overwatch days?”

“ _They had a happy open relationship. They loved each other, they never changed, and they loved other people outside of their marriage, that was just how they were and they were the happiest two you would ever find._ ”

They lapsed into heavy and awkward silence. He kept slicing various mildly sandwich things while pondering to see if they had something to help supplement what he was making so far. Not much, considering he had used most of the raw stuff to make breakfast, he was left with either being extremely creative with prepackaged junk food or cave and order something. Never one to give up the fight, he kept focusing on sandwiches.

“…Talon has done a lot of really shitty things, haven’t they?” Sombra sighed.

“ _Incredibly,_ ” He retorted, slicing slightly stale bread with a bit more force then he should have. The knife hit the cutting board with _thunk_ and it took a bit of force to get it back out of the wooden board.

“I mean… like, _really_ shitty Gabe… I…” Sombra actually looked unsure of herself when he looked over at her.

“ _What?_ ”

“I did some hardcore digging before I joined Talon,” Sombra said, “Like some real detective shit. I dug up all their dirty laundry because I wanted them in my pocket if it ever came down to it.” Sombra plucked one of the apples up off the counter. She held it like she needed something physical to touch to anchor herself. Being unsure did not suit her, it was not a flattering nor acceptable look.

“Talon managed to put a lot of agents into Overwatch’s ranks, there was a lot of sleeper and double agents before Overwatch got disbanded… Gabe, those agents played a huge role in Overwatch’s downfall.”

“ _That… no, that was the corruption higher up in the ranks,_ ” He said, putting the knife down because he started to feel tremors in his wrists.

“That was them, they implanted themselves in instrumental roles in Overwatch, at first to watch to see if Overwatch went anywhere and when they started doing all that heroic shit? They started corrupting everything they could touch, little things, things you’d never see until they stacked up and then it would be too late. ‘Death by bug bites’. They tore Overwatch apart from the inside, waited for the moment to strike and then used paid off UN contacts to pull the killing blow.”

“ _That’s a damning accusation,_ ”

“Operation: Salt the Earth, that’s what they called it. They used sleeper and double agents that would take the fall and not expose them. Didn’t anyone ever think it was weird that the UN acted so quickly and violently against a band of heroes? That all the stuff about Blackwatch and the corruption came to light so suddenly? Operation: Salt the Earth. They wanted to tear Overwatch to pieces and then make sure that they or no one else could face Talon again.”

His hands were shaking. This… this was…

“Guess they failed,” Sombra said on a upbeat, “Here Overwatch is again and not a single sleeper or double agent in sight, don’t worry papi, I made sure of that. Talon was really fucked up, papi, did some really dark shit. But lately they haven’t seem to be able to catch a break, I mean, Overwatch forming again despite everything they did, they lost two of their most valuable operatives and I’ve got the inside knowledge to do onto them what they first did to Overwatch. They’re failing and falling apart.”

“… _Yeah, I guess so,_ ” He said, going back to making lunch.

He guessed that Angela was right, in those regards.

_Heroes never die._

* * *

[Entering Channel: Trust the Good Doctor]

ANGIE: clean bill of health for everyone!  
LENA: Yay!!  
GENJI: Ugh, hate when my fluids need to get swapped out  
D.VA: Then don’t spend them all on Zen =P  
ZEN: O-oh goodness  
GENJI: HANA NO  
JRAT: AYE ROADFIE I GOT ME TSHOT  
HOGGE: ...good job  
SATYA: My thanks for my estrogen shot, Angela.  
REIN: Good to have the t-implants refilled, right Jack? Right Lucio? =D  
LUCIO: You bet big guy!  
HANZO: I hate needles.  
JESSE: aw, need me to kiss it better?  
HANZO: Kissing will not make the injection site hurt less.  
JESSE: never tried though  
HANZO: Ugh. Fine, if it will keep you quiet.  
D.VA: GGAAAYYYYY  
SOMBRA: Need someone to kiss your E-shot boo-boo, chica?  
D.VA: No thanks  
D.VA: WAIT  
D.VA: HOW DOES YOURE USERNAME HAVE SIX LETTERS?  
SOMBRA: I changed it  
SOMBRA: I hacked into the rules and changed them  
SOMBRA: I’m a hacker  
SOMBRA: I hack  
ANGIE: that rule is in place for a reason!  
SOMBRA: Took care of that too doc  
LENA: YOU KNOW WHAT THIS MEANS???

[LENA has changed their username to TRACER]  
[JESSE has changed their username to MCCREE]  
[HOGGE has changed their username to ROADIE]  
[FARA has changed their username to PHARAH]

ANGIE: …

[ANGIE has changed their username to ANGELA]

D.VA: One of us, one of us!

[ANGELA has added ORISA to Channel: Trust the Good Doctor]

ORISA: Greetings!  
D.VA: Hi Orisa! Is Efi with you?  
ORISA: Yes, I am going to be the filter between her and chat, so you may relay messages through me to her!  
D.VA: Aw, she can’t come in and say hi?

[QUOTE: “D.VA: Also Genji short-circuited his master last night, something about weird cyborg robot interfacing sex”]  
[QUOTE: “D.VA: Also Hanzo saved a horse last night and can’t walk, something about ‘it would have been easier to ride the horse”]  
[QUOTE: “D.VA: Was there just something in the air last night that I missed? Is this what I get for being an ace lesbian? What’s next, Angela, Fareeha and Satya had a hardcore lesbian three-some last night?]

ORISA: And that is just this morning!  
D.VA: Point taken  
ORISA: Efi says hello!  
D.VA: We say hi back and sorry for being nasty adults :’(  
MEI: Hi Efi  
LÚCIO: HI EFI!  
ORISA: Efi is hard at work on her next project and wishes everyone well!  
D.VA: Speaking of next projects…  
D.VA: What’s Winston got you guys doing???  
MCCREE: undercover op in Brazil, something about a lead about a Talon base?  
SOMBRA: Yeah, small base, but pretty influential in with operations through South and North America  
MCCREE: … right  
MCCREE: uh anyway, just a small sting, nothing that we cant handle  
GABE: How undercover are we talking about?  
MCCREE: just a quick undercover assignment, posin as cops so that we dont blow overwatch’s cover  
GABE: Remember all the undercover operations we did, McCree?  
MCCREE: maybe when winston trusts you some more  
MCCREE: doin stings wit you was… somethin  
D.VA: That’s not shady at all  
MCCREE: we dont speak of some fer them for a reason  
ANGELA: they are forbidden  
ANGELA: athena shutting down communications for three days forbidden  
D.VA: Wow

* * *

Jack had a window in his room.

It was crusted shut with dirt and disuse, but after cleaning the area around it and putting a bit of elbow grease into it, he managed to throw it open and let in a burst of fresh and cool air. He sat on the windowsill and looked out over the hills that Jack’s window faced. If he leaned a bit out of the window he could make out part of the ocean that the base faced.

The air was nice… helped him think straight. There was a lot of his shit in his head, buzzing around like pissed off hornets hitting the sides of his skull.

He honestly never expected that Talon had been the cause of so much shit that had gone wrong in his life, but all this stuff that Sombra had found out? It almost felt like Talon was his own personal boogeyman, a name for the writhing and boiling tar that once filled his chest. Not only that, but they were the reason that so many of his friends were retired in disgrace, dead, scarred or just plain old MIA. Not to mention their countless victims both old and new, the civilians they killed, the lives they had and have ruined and all of the good organizations they brought down because they got in the way.

Operation: Salt the Earth… looks like Talon did not pour enough salt or till it deep enough to poison the grounds that grew Overwatch. It was growing again and they had to means to keep it healthy without the weeds to chokes the leaves and roots. Talon failed, Talon would keep failing and with Sombra they would burn them from the earth. Though with good there would always be bad, while they could not guarantee that they could stop bad guys from ever happening again, they could at least make sure that had to pretty brazen to attack like Talon.

“Gabe?”

Jack stomped over from the door open, saddling right up to him and throwing an arm around from him.

“ _What?_ ” He asked, turning to kiss Jack’s stubbly cheek.

“…Nothing, just…” Jack trailed off.

“… _Things are different now, Jack,_ ” He said, getting off the windowsill so he could wrap his arms around Jack and pull him close. They slotted together so achingly perfect.

“ _I’m not fitting to throw myself out of a window anytime soon… I’m still sad but I think I’m putting myself together again,_ ” He buried his face in the side of Jack’s neck, “ _You’re stuck with me for awhile yet, boy scout._ ”

Jack chuckled once, “Stupid old edge lord.”

“ _Ah, but I’m **your** stupid old edge lord, my old boy scout._ ”

“For as long as I can hold onto you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I post updates and generally ramble on [tumblr](https://nevaryadlwrites.tumblr.com/), so come by to stalk progress or just say hi!


	20. Along Came A Spider

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: The usual ships all implied, gore, 'character death'
> 
> Along came a spider, without a emotion stir, and blew him away
> 
> Translations in the end notes
> 
> PR-15-2017: Fixed Angela incorrectly speaking Swedish

[Entering Channel: McCree Affectionate Southern Nicknames count 83]

D.VA: Yeah, they want to have a pretty big ceremony and everything  
D.VA: I’ll have to dig up my old uniform and medals, I should probably also get my hair done too so I look nice  
D.VA: It’ll be the first time I’ve been back in a couple of months so I should look nice  
ANGELA: well i can’t do anything fancy but i can give you a trim  
D.VA: Yay~  
D.VA: They also said I could bring a friend, but I’m not sure yet since they would likely get A LOT of coverage from the media so that eliminates like 80% of people here on base =P  
ANGELA: sadly so lmao  
ANGELA: congratulations hana  
SOMBRA: What are you getting again, bello?  
D.VA: An award for continued service to the Korean government, they made it up just for me  
D.VA: They probably are just using it to drill me about what we’re doing over here and keep everyone back home from panicking without the star child there  
D.VA: But hey, another medal to join the collection and Winston’s already approved me to get some quality R&R with family  
D.VA: I will miss Gabe’s cooking though TT__TT  
GABE: I’m flattered  
D.VA: Bruh, those hamburgers last night, my freaking soul left my body and ASCENDED  
D.VA: I’m hooookkkeed  
GABE: I’ll cook something of your choosing for when you get back, soldier  
D.VA: Ahhhhhhhhhhh  
GABE: Congrats on the award by the way  
D.VA: lmao Its nothing  
GABE: Remember, wear something comfy underneath he uniform, comfortable shoes and hide snacks in your pocket to keep yourself from getting bored or hungry  
D.VA: You sound experienced =P  
GABE: Lot of award ceremonies after the crisis, doesn’t look good to yawn at one of them  
GABE: Ask Ana  
ANA: They shouldnt make them so boring then  
ANA: And I learned to drink coffee before the ceremony… and then learned how to hold my bladder during them  
D.VA: XD  
D.VA: Hey when I get back, we should do D&D night  
GABE: ….  
ANA: …  
JACK: …  
ANGELA: …  
REIN: …  
TORJN: …  
TRACER: …  
MCCREE: …  
D.VA: Please don’t shut down communications Athena, I didn’t know

[ATHENA: D&D is not on the forbidden communications list, Agent Song. Just Paladin Jenkins.]

D.VA: Who?  
GABE: NO!  
ANA: HANA  
ANGELA: no!  
REIN: NOT AGAIN!  
MCCREE: LENA!  
TRACER: LEEEEERRROOOOOOOOYYYYYY

[ATHENA has banned TRACER from chat]

[ATHENA: This is your one and only warning, please do not speak of Paladin Jenkins again.]

[ATHENA: Agent Song, your plane will arrive here soon, I would suggest taking Operative Winston with you as speaking with a direct Overwatch representative will provide the Korean government with more accurate information on our missions and current progress and allow Winston momentary reprieve from currents events. Congratulations on your award and good luck on your journey back home. Return safely to us when you are done.]

D.VA: >> t-thanks  
D.VA: umm….. okay I gotta hop off and get ready everyone, so this is goodbye for now! I’ll see everyone in two weeks, please don’t burn down the base without me!  
SOMBRA: Nos estamos viendo, saludos tu papá, mi amor no correspondido  
D.VA: Uhhhh  
GABE: She’s being gay again, have fun  
D.VA: …illmissyoutwosombrabyes  
SOMBRA: *GASP*  
SOMBRA: GABE!  
GENJI: ggggaaaaayyyyyyyy  
TRACER: GAYWATCH Dununununa dun dun!

* * *

“Alright, so, Hana and Winston have left for Korea for two weeks,” Angela said to them, the mass of them assembled in the main recreational room.

“Who did he leave in charge?” Genji asked. Surprisingly, Genji had taken off his head armor, revealing scalp of scars that was barely hidden by a patch of black hair. Unlike the last time he had seen the ninja unmasked, it looked like someone had added a white silicone pseudo-lower lip top hide the solid metal mold of his teeth.

“Me, so everyone _will be_ on their best behavior,” Angela said, glaring hellfire at all of them.

“Yes, doctor,” Everyone muttered in some way or another.

“I will assist you when I can, Operative Ziegler,” Athena chimed overhead.

“My thanks, Athena,” Angela sighed, “Now I suppose that I should start daily operations. Let’s try to… _where are the Australian boys?_ ”

“Jamison Fawkes and Make Rutledge are currently in the lower levels. Mako Rutledge is currently suffering from hyperoxia and asked me to lower the oxygen levels in a room while he administers hogdrogon until he can cleanse his body of the excess oxygen,” Athena reported, “Neither of them are armed and I am watching them, Agent Zeigler.”

“Right, heart attack avoided. Back to daily operations, I’ll have my comm device on me if anyone needs anything.” She turned on her heel, paused for a moment as though she were thinking about something, then turned back on her hells and glared darkly at everyone, “ _ **Behave.**_ ”

After the terror of the good doctor’s unsung threat faded from the room, the assembled operatives trailed off to do their own thing. Genji and Lúcio claimed the main holo-screen and started playing some game. Since it was early, a few decided to do a group workout thing, something that even the mention of made his knees throb painful, so instead he sat his old ass on a couch and was soon joined by Ana and Jack as they decided they were too damn old to go running in the morning chill. Reinhardt, the man that could defy age and all sense or reason, went running with the younger operatives.

“Man, Reinhardt puts a lot of us to shame,” Lúcio mentioned as two cartoony and flashily dressed fighters exchanged blows on the holo-screen as the two clicked away on two sleek gaming controllers. Lúcio elbowed Genji in his side playfully, “Puts Genji to shame, damn sugar ninja.”

“So that’s where all the good cereal goes,” McCree said as he walked back in with a sheepish grin, “And here we all thought it was Hana and Junkrat eatin’ it all. Just ‘ur resident ninja.”

“ _Not running, cowboy?_ ” He quipped.

“Give me weights any day, but don’t make my chubby ass run,” McCree grinned as he scrubbed along the side of his nose, claiming a chair.

“Disappointing the archer again?” Ana teased the cowboy.

“He’s not running either, just went to change,” McCree grinned, “Remember, robotic chicken legs? Not exactly the most comfortable things to run in if Han doesn’t have ta.”

“Just for that quip cowboy, I am going to give you weights,” Hanzo said from the door. Hanzo had his hair up and he wore a tank top and sweat-pants, “Unless you want to sleep alone for a month, _come with me,_.”

McCree grumbled as he got up and begrudgingly followed Hanzo, the threat of sleeping alone enough to spur him along.

“Whhiiipppppped,” Genji giggled to a chuckling Lúcio.

“Since you aren’t joining them, peanut gallery,” Ana said, freely throwing her legs out over his lap as she got her comm device out, “Can the comments.”

With the two focused back on their game, he tried to relax and simply enjoy the moment of peace but something was… well something akin to anxiety was making his skin crawl. For some reason his brain was trying desperately to tell him that _something,_ was wrong. But what was wrong he could not figure out. But something was telling him that something was terribly wrong.

“Gabe?” Jack asked, one hand rubbing his shoulder soothingly, “You’re tense…”

“ _Something’s wrong…_ ” He growled out, “ _Can’t figure out what though…_ ”

“Uh oh, Gabe’s gut is tingling,” Ana said, though her tone was serious.

“I think they make something for that now,” Lúcio laughed.

Instead of causing a panic if it was just his screwy brain, he pulled out his comm device.

[Entering Channel: McCree Affectionate Southern Nicknames count 89]

TRACER: I bet I can out run everyone!  
PHARAH: You’re an Olympic runner!  
MEI: you’ll stay with me, right Zar?  
ZARYA: Of course, my adorable small girlfriend!

[PM from GABE to SOMBRA: Sombra?]  
[PM from SOMBRA to GABE: ¿Sí papá?]  
[PM from GABE to SOMBRA: Can you confer with Athena and quickly check the perimeter?]  
[PM from SOMBRA to GABE: Worried about something, papi?]  
[PM from GABE to SOMBRA: **Very.** ]

PHARAH: Satya holy shit slow down babe  
SATYA: Lena wished for a race, so she is going to get a race.  
TRACER: >:D  
BASTION: (´°ω°`) |⁰⊖⁰)  
TRJBN: Fuckin lesbians, running so damn fast  
REIN: WE CAN CATCH UP FRIEND! =D

Well, here was hoping that it was all a hunch. With all the operatives outside, Winston and D.Va and her meka out of the country and both him and Sombra on base… well things were stacked against them in terms of things getting fubar.

* * *

“ _Devant le ciel d'été, tiède et calmé,_ ” She hummed.

She had been camped out in a crevice in the mountain overlooking the Overwatch base for a few days now. Just a small little nook as she waited for the opportune moment to strike. The chill in the air and the annoying buzz at the back of her skull had hardly bothered her in the void where her emotions were supposed to be as she waited. Waited like an ever patient spider stalking her prey, toying with them, waiting for them to tire and make a mistake. Rifle in hand, she casually strode to the edge of her little crevice in the rough stone.

So many hours of waiting and now was the time to strike. Her target was in sight.

* * *

“Come on, Gabe, its okay, we’re safe,” Jack said from the couch as he stood before the window and looked out at the ocean, “Come back over and sit with me, you old edge lord.”

“ _Something’s wrong,_ ” He growled through his teeth.

The feeling of anxiety was still going strong. Enough that his stomach threatened to twist and up heave its contents. He felt like he was staring down the barrel of a gun ready to blow his brains out or being hunted by someone well… like him, _Reaper_. The feeling was just getting worse and the cusp of an anxiety attack was creeping up his spine.

“ _Something is terribly wrong, I just don’t know what yet,_ ” He growled at the glass.

* * *

“H-hold on hun,” McCree as he jogged behind Hanzo. Despite the archer saying that they were doing weights, the archer instead had yanked his arm and his hat free and was now running just fast enough to put the cowboy out of his one armed reach.

“Then run faster,” Hanzo replied, hardly fazed by the pace. McCree’s hat was slung low on his head and the cowboy’s metal arm tied through a hole along his sweatpants’ waistline with his hair tie. But when he looked over his shoulder, the archer was smiling smugly.

“Oh now yer just not playin’ fair,” McCree laughed breathlessly, trying to pick up the pace.

* * *

“ _Je me souviens de toi comme d'un songe,_ ” She hummed along as she lay out on her stomach and casually lined up her shot. Her visor, at a single thought, slipped down and her heat vision started up. Unobstructed by anything, she waited for the target to move just a little to the side.

“ _Et mon regret fidèle aime et prolonge, Les heures où j'étais aimé,_ ” She hummed as her crosshairs trailed after her target almost lazily. A many eyed spider waiting for her prey to make a mistake, to be the cause of his own death.

* * *

“Gabriel Reyes,” Athena chimed overhead as he paced in front of the window and ground his teeth as wisps of black smoke dribbled off his skin, “I have conferred with Agent Sombra and have realized that someone have taken out one of my perimeter drones. Based on evidence I found near it, the drone was taken down with a 4mm bullet from a long range and powerful sniper rifle.”

“ _A 4mm bullet from a long range and powerful sniper rifle…_ ” He mused before his eyes opened, “ _Athena, it’s Widowmaker, she’s on base!_ ”

“Alerting all operatives, I am now on lock-down,” Athena said stoically, “Agent Sombra, I need your eyes to help me locate her.”

“ _Shouldn’t be hard, she’s purple!_ ”

* * *

“Attention all operatives, we have a Talon intruder on base, a long range sniper,” Athena chimed over Reinhardt’s comm as the group that had taken the job around base took a break to catch their breaths. The giant man first looked from his comm to his surroundings, tense as everyone around him joined him in looking before Tracer snapped at them all: “Out of sight loves!”

The Overwatch heroes scattered and started heading towards base while avoiding open spaces.

* * *

“Attention all operatives, we have a Talon intruder on base, a long range sniper,” Athena said over Hanzo’s comm. The archer paused, giving McCree the chance to catch up with him, though huffing and puffing hard and his face flushed until the freckles in his dark skin stuck out. The cowboy fanned himself as he gave a confused look to Hanzo’s comm.

“Whatc’ she say?” McCree drawled.

“Sniper, out of the way Jesse,” Hanzo snapped.

“My arm, first,” McCree said, yanking on his detached arm and almost pants-ing the archer.

* * *

“ _Les astres brilleront dans la nuit noire,_ ” She sang, softly, sadly. 

The image of a scruffy face, distant and fuzzy before the image faded into the void of her mind. Perhaps the face of someone she killed once, though she hardly remembered the faces of any so she doubted that he was important. 

“ _Le soleil brillera dans le jour clair, Quelque chose de toi flotte dans l'air, Qui me pénètre la mémoire._ ”

Her crosshairs strayed to dead center his forehead, the perfect spot to destroy most of the brain in one shot. One shot, one kill. She had only failed a few assassination targets but only because of her idiot coworkers. Now she was on her own, a lone spider stalking her prey, so little between her and her absolute killing spot.

“ _Quelque chose de toi qui fut à moi,_ ” She sang, “ _Car j'ai possédé tout de ta pensée._ ”

* * *

“ _Where’s Jesse?_ ” He demanded in a panic, realizing that he had no idea where Jesse had gone.

“Operative Jesse McCree and operative Hanzo Shimada are still in the courtyard, it appears Operative Hanzo Shimada is trying to put operative Jesse McCree’s arm back on,” Athena reported.

“ _Tell that cowboy asshole to hurry up!_ ” He seethed.

Talon has taken a lot of shit from him, his career, his status as a war hero, friends and family, Jack’s sight and a huge chunk of his life. But if there was one thing that he would fight tooth and nail for, it was _Jesse fucking McCree._

“We’re here!” Lena said as the others joined her in the rec room, “Gabe, get away from that window!”

* * *

“There, now let’s move, Hanzo snapped as McCree curled his metallic fingers. McCree squeezed his elbow as he worked his fingers and made sure everything reconnected. Everything was working fine, so it all seemed right.

“Right behind you, honeysuckle,” McCree said.

* * *

“ _Et mon âme, trahie et délaissée, Est encor tout entière à toi,_ ” She sang, finger curling around the trigger.

“One shot, one kill…. Parting is such sweet sorrow,” She said softly.

_**BANG!** _

* * *

“AHH!”

* * *

“Dum, dum dun dum du- eh? Hey, Hoggy you hear something?”

Junkrat looked up from the disassembled bomb he had laid out, throwing a look to his friend still sitting in the old room the AI sheila had given him to get all the shit out of his system. Normally he heard all sorts of shit in his head, buzzing and chattering and all that nasty shit from standing too close to one too many explosions. But something that sounded like a very distant gunshot followed by a scream? No way was that in his head.

Hoggy was laying in one of them car jack hospital beds, reading one of those old and worn out books he carried with them. Hearing him the big mountain of a man lifted his head and looked around, scrutinizing the air for a moment. Hoggy moved, twisting to the side to undoubtedly check the jury-rigged steady flow system of hogdrogon to flush out his lungs and blood of the too fresh mountain air that was poisoning his big lug. After a moment he heard the muffled hiss of the system getting unplugged and the bed creaked as he got up.

“What’re you doing, big guy?” He asked, quickly stuffing the loose bomb components into the shell he had planned for the little popper. Nothing could blow right now unless it got crushed underneath a force stronger than two hogs, so he could safely attach it himself without worry. Not that he was ever worried about the live bombs attached to him.

“Bad sound, checking it out,” Roadie huffed.

“What about yer uh, hyper-what’s-it? Don’t want you clonking out on me, mate,” He said, jerking up and standing before the door as though he could stop Roadie from leaving the slightly airless room. He could put up a hell of a fight, scrappy as he was, but Roadie has proven time and time again that he weighed nothing to the mountain of the man.

“Good now, just wanted to read,” Roadie said.

He gave Hoggy a look that he did not believe him. Would not be totally out of character for the big asshole to hide wounds, memory was patchy as shit but he remembered at least two times that Roadie had hid being hurt pretty bad just to save his scrawny hide. He realized that the noise did not necessarily mean anything would happen to him, but still.

“You think anything happened to them Overwatch people upstairs?” He asked his quiet bodyguard as the beast of the man opened the door and squeezed himself out.

Roadie looked up at the ceiling before looking down at him. Through the darkly tinted lens of his mask he saw Roadie’s eyes peer down at him, like when the big guy was trying to make him focus by force of sheer gaze. Roadie’s big head bobbed once and he started walking, he hobbled after him after a few steps, him able to walk faster because of his longer legs even with the peg leg.

“Should probably grab our stuff that the AI Sheila made us give up before coming down here,” He said, “Uh… you remember where?”

A big hand curled around the back of his head and a massive thumb scrubbed along his patchy scalp soothing. He giggled and leaned into the touch.

“Yep, good job remembering putting them down,” Roadie said.

“Heh, I’m getting better at remembering shit,” He giggled as his scalp was scrubbing, “Not totally useless shit.”

They moved up into the upper levels of the base, keeping ears and eyes out for any trouble. Nothing was really picking away at his buzzing survival instincts, mostly the base seemed… too quiet and empty. Big base yeah, but there was usually some sort of noise somewhere at all times. People holding their breath quiet now that he thought about it, like something happened and brains are scrambling to catch up and understand.

“Not good,” He muttered underneath his breath.

First they hit the rec room and there they found the first sign that something was wrong, at least physically. A window that once overlooked the ocean was not shattered and drops of what looked like ink stained the ground.

“Oh boy, what happened?” He wondered aloud.

“Rat, outside,” Roadie said.

He gleefully followed the big guy as they walked down a couple dozen flights of stairs and then walked out the front door. Nothing in the main little space of concrete and shit, so they walked around to the spacey little courtyard that he had remember setting of bombs once because it was nice and engaged with concrete walls and the glorious ‘booms!’ echoed nicely all over. Big scientist yelled at him through, could not remember what about, but Roadie had told him ‘no more’ and he had heeded his big lug’s word.

In the courtyard they saw someone laying al sprawled out and that left tit out asshole was hunched over them.

“Jesse!” He wheezed, all sniffly and crying.

Roadie walked over to him and he saw that the cunt all sprawled out was that cowboy um… Jesse. Big fucking hole ripped through the left side of his chest, blood all over, and even the left tit guy and his face. Roadie eased his massive weight down to close to the cowboy’s side and pressed a single finger to the side of his neck.

“Well?” He asked. There was a lot of blood, but some people were stubborn.

Roadie reached behind his big head and loosened the straps of his mask and pulled it off. The sudden light made Hog blink a few times before he pressed the mask to the cowboy’s face, adjusting it until the seal finally registered the much smaller face and clamped shut.

“What are you doing?!” Left tit demanded.

“Helping,” He stated, offended that this guy was acting like they would kill a man while he was down. Man, they had done some low shit, but never kill a man while he was already bleeding out and shit. Hitting a guy while he was down was just cowardly, it was better to let the asshole bleed out. Besides, he might not have been the smartest man on the fly, but he had already figured what Roadie was doing.

Roadie took out one of his hogdrogon tanks and hooked it up to one of the mask’s filters and gave it a hard twist. The plastic seal broke with a crisp crunch before letting out a long wet hiss as hogdrogon started filtering through the mask.

“Oi, tits McGee,” He snapped at left tit, “Hold his throat open so he can breathe that shit it, it’s good for ‘im.”

Left tit glared darkly at him, but at the first wet gurgle and shifting of the giant ass hole in the cowboy’s chest, he moved and tilted the cowboy’s head back to open up his throat. With a clear way in, the flesh along side of the hole wriggled and then started to slowly fill out. Always gross shit watching hogdrogon heal the bad wounds, flesh move in all the wrong ways. But the fact that it _was_ healing meant that even with one of his lungs ripped to fucking hell that the cowboy had clung to life and that was impressive. Not many people willing to cling to life with the same ferocity of a fucking Junker.

After a moment the cowboy lurched and started thrashing only to have Roadie pin his chest down with one meaty palm.

“Hold still,” Roadie ordered with a troubled rasp.

Seeing the mountain hovering over him, the cowboy really started to fight, so he sat on the ungrateful asshole’s legs to keep him down. Left tit tried to say something soothing but he guessed that with the mask clamped onto his head that it was kind of hard.

After a moment the flesh stopped wriggling and finally healed over. The skin shined patchy with a scar but even that faded and then the mask was being pulled off. Hogdrogon was powerful stuff and could kill just as easily as it healed, though he only knew it was the chemicals wrecking absolute havoc on the body’s system, that bio-chemist stuff was Roadie’s domain. Hell, there was a reason that Roadie barely let him use the stuff, though that was mostly his lack of weight and already shit health.

Without the mask, the cowboy lurched up and looked around, confused as fuck. He looked down at his chest, patting the hole in his shirt where the hole had been. Seeing that the hole was not there anymore, he looked around.

“What in sam hell?” He muttered.

“You were shot, by the sniper,” Left tit said, touching his face all soft like.

“Sniper… I remember something black floating above…” Jesse muttered, looking around the sky like a daft tit.

“Gabriel, he broke through the window above us when he saw you go down,” Hanzo, wait, Hanzo was Left Tit’s name! That was right.

“Shit, better get him before he turns that sniper into bloody goo,” McCree grunted, trying to get up only for Hog to push him back down, Hog’s big mitt nearly spanning the entirety of the cowboy’s chest. He went down with a funny ‘ooofph’ sound.

“Lung was popped, stay and rest,” Roadie rumbled, “Where’s the doc?”

“Went after Gabriel,” Hando, wait… that was not the fucker’s name, what was his name again? Huh, he thought he had had it. Oh well. Not like they cared for each other expect when the asshole kept bugging him about his treasure.

“I’ll go get her!” He chimed, “Come on Hand soap.”

* * *

“ _ **GET BACK HERE WIDOWMAKER!**_ ” He raged.

Widowmaker ran while clutching her sniper rifle, the hoarse and wet sound of Widowmaker’s ragged breathing even reaching his ears. When she blindly fired over her shoulder the bullet whizzed by his hear, temporarily dissipating the black smoke seeping off of his skin.

“ _ **YOU’LL PAY FOR SHOOTING JESSE!**_ ”

Widowmaker stumbled, one of her heels catching some of the rocky terrain she was trying to outrun him over. She yelped, turned as she fell and tried to unload her clip into him, but he already had a grip on the barrel of her gun and was shoving it out of the way. She fought against his grip, trying to fight off his strength, but a combo of him simply being bigger and that stubborn oxygen deprivation sure did a number on her raw strength. 

Unable to free her gun, she just fired haphazardly. Several deafening roars into the sky later and the sniper rifle clicked pathetically as he hovered over her menacingly.

_Death comes for you, Amélie._

Despite Widowmaker not being fully capable of feeling emotions, he saw he saw something akin to fear play across her eyes.

“ _WHY?_ ” He roared, “ _Why hunt me down? Why would you shoot Jesse? Why?_ ”

When Widowmaker refused to say anything, his foot came down hard on her chest. The sound of bones crackling filled his ears and Widowmaker let out a small and pained yelp. His foot ground down against the bones hidden underneath oxygen deprived skin until she let out a pained yell.

“To break you!” She hissed, hands come to grab at his ankle desperately, “Break your mind and make you into Reaper again. Make you come back to work with Talon. Get off!”

They… wanted to break him. Even after he so willing walked away they just kept clawing at his heels… Even declaring him dead they still wanted to use him like a goddamn weapon for their own devices. The literal fucking bane of his existence and they refused to fucking let him go!

“ _…Was that all?_ ” He asked quietly.

“What?”

He took up Widowmaker’s rifle and lifted it up like a crude club. A crude club to bring down on Widowmaker’s skull again and again until even Talon could feel it.

“ _Die, DIE, **DIE**!_ ” He screamed as he brought the rifle down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRANSLATIONS:
> 
> Nos estamos viendo, saludos tu papá, mi amor no correspondido = See you later, say hi to your dad, my unrequited love
> 
> The entirety of the French song Widow was singing (a lovely song called Regret from Les Aveux in Amour)=
> 
> When I see the summer sky, mild and stilled,  
> you come into my mind, as if you were a dream,  
> and my true ache for you loves and draws out  
> the hours when I was dearly loved.
> 
> The stars will shine in deepest night;  
> the sun will shine in the clear day,  
> a part of you floats in the air  
> and penetrates my memory.
> 
> Something of you that once was mine:  
> since I possessed all your thoughts,  
> It is my soul, betrayed, forlorn,  
> that still belongs to you, just you.


	21. Death Blossom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: The usual ships, refereed to past Widowmaker/Tracer, minor gore
> 
> What to do with a spider in a jar and with the official reckoning of Reaper?
> 
> Yesicrammedabunchofstufffromthenewcomicinheredon'tjudgeme. But anyway, we're getting to the end, though not immediately soon. The fate of Widowmaker is still up in the air, there's some political stuff that's coming up. Thanks for reading everyone, ilu~<3!

“Gabe, you okay?” McCree asked him.

The cowboy had been stripped down to his shirt and pants, devoid of his serape, boots and gun holster. The shirt was still crisp with cleanliness, the other he had actually tried to wear that day scrapped. Not even he could fix a huge ass hole and dried in blood on a white shirt. McCree had joked about keeping it but tossed it when enough people expressed that the joke was distasteful, himself included.

He only gave the cowboy a groan and felt the painful welt and its mirror twin on the other side of his shoulder sting painfully. Jack was letting him sulk against him, holding an ice pack to the back of his shoulder while he held another to the front of it. Jack, bless his pure intentions, had dragged him away from everyone and together they were sitting on his bed in his messy room but had left the door open because of the pungent musty smell. Now there was a cowboy standing in that open space, looking kicked instead of recovering from having part of his chest blown out with a sniper round.

“Um… Lena says she’s real sorry fer shootin’ you,” McCree said lamely, taking his hat off and holding it to his chest like a real southern gentlemen. It just made him look like a kicked scruffy puppy.

“ _If she really was she would have said it in person,_ ” He said flatly.

“She’s worried that yer mad at her,” McCree said.

“ _I’m mad that she saw me and fucking Widowmaker and she chose to shoot me,_ ” He snapped, glaring at nothing in particular. It would have been unfair of him to try and aim his anger at McCree. ‘ _Don’t shoot the messenger,_ ’ rattled through his head for a moment as he tried to direct his anger at the spritely free runner currently fighting with Mercy somewhere deeper in the base. “ _I’m mad because with her speed she could have gotten in the way between us. I’m mad because she **fucking** shot me and not the gun in my hands or once again she did not shot **the fucking Talon agent that came here and shot you, Jesse.**_ ”

McCree flinched hard and he immediately felt bad. He had just told himself not to be angry at him and here he was yelling at him.

“ _I’m sorry,_ ” He rasped, “ _I’m just…_ ”

“Yeah, I git it,” McCree said, placing his hat back on top of his head, “Not sure what got inta Lena myself.”

He knew. Lena had been dating Widowmaker when she was Amélie and that bleeding heart of hers saw Widowmaker and a chance to help her and she choose her heart over her head. What was a friend to a former beloved lover? Perhaps the reason that he had felt so angry was because he once again felt betrayed by a friend that was supposed to stand by him. Lena had literally jumped at the chance to see him when he turned his back on Talon and then turned around and shot him clear through the shoulder when Widowmaker was involved.

“Well, I’ll leave ya to it,” McCree said.

“ _Jesse?_ ” He rasped, making the cowboy pause in the doorway. When the cowboy looked back, he let out a heavy sigh, “ _I’m so fucking happy and glad you’re alive._ ”

“Whadda know, me too,” McCree grinned before tipping his hat, “Gabe, Morrison.” Then he was gone.

He sighed again, feeling such an awful and familiar feeling sink deep into his chest. Jack distracted him by grabbing his free hand.

“You okay?” Jack asked.

“… _I don’t know,_ ” He admitted sourly.

“Well I’m here for you, let me know if I can do anything to help,”

“… _Thanks, Jackie,_ ” He said, feeling a small smile play on his lips as that awful feeling suddenly felt bearable.

* * *

Widowmaker took the cell that Sombra had been. She was to wait in there until Winston could be told about her and he could decide what to do about her. 

Lena was a mess though, begging Angela to heal her, to make her better. Angela kept saying that her medical attention could not help her mind. Besides that, even if she could somehow undo the brainwashing, then Amélie would have to deal with all that Widowmaker had done. Lena could only be dissuaded when he told her and everyone that Widowmaker had killed Gérard, something that everyone knew that Amélie would not have been able to handle.

Angela took up the conference room and told Athena to keep everyone out and away while she video conferenced with Winston. Lena tried to blink into the room only for Athena to set up a field that would have turned off her accelerator around the room. So Lena was forced to sit with everyone in the rec room while they waited.

“She should be saved,” Lena bristled.

“Then Amélie will have to realize that for years she’s been a terrorist and killed her husband,” Hanzo countered, “Would she be able to handle that?”

Lena would not hear it and just glared at the archer.

“There is mercy in letting her remain Widowmaker,” Sombra said, “Nothing changes.”

“But we can’t do that to Amélie!” Lena yelled.

“She ain’t Amélie anymore, chica,” Sombra snapped right back, “There ain’t no telling if Amélie is still there. Humans are a lot weaker then we like to pretend that we’re not. Amélie was subjected to horrific neural rewiring, she’s been a stone cold killer for years, she’s been a terrorist, she’s be _evil_. For all we know, Amélie died off long ago.”

“HOW DARE YOU SAY THAT?!” Lena screamed.

“Lena, she’s gotta point,” McCree said, stepping in between them, “Do you honestly wanna ta look Amélie in the eyes and tell ‘er ‘Oh yeah, you’ve been murdering innocent people, commitin’ acts of terror, not ta mention ya killed yer own husband, but happy ta have ya back’?”

“You’re taking her side!?” Lena said, glossing over the argument.

“It’s not about sides Lena,” Jack said firmly, making Lena recoil as that old Overwatch training took over and she listened to her commanding officer, “Besides, none of us get to decide Widowmaker’s fate. That’s Winston’s call. If he says ‘try to find a way to help her’ or ‘send her purple ass back to Talon’ is _his_ call. You can’t control that.”

Lena gritted her teeth, eyes glossy with tears, before she stormed out of the room. After a moment, Lúcio got up to and quickly went after her.

There was a certain quietness that settled.

“So… what would y’all do?” McCree asked, “I don’t know ‘bout y’all but… the last two Talon agents we gave shot didn’t turn out so bad so… maybe save her?

“Give her chance?” Genji said, sounding very unsure of himself.

“Back to Talon,” Torbjörn said roughly, “Amélie wouldn’t be able ta take the shit that she’s done.”

“I’ll be the bitch and say send her back,” Sombra said, “You guys really don’t know the extent of the shit Talon has done. She’s not going to be able to take what happened to her or what’s she’s done.”

“Both sides have their merits and their evils,” Zenyatta said, “One side is a mercy to the person. She would not have to deal with her sins and you save Amélie, but you give Talon back one of their most valuable agents and Widowmaker continues to kill. Or you save Amélie, but then she has to deal with Widowmaker’s sins, all the deaths, the horrible things she has done and thus likely drive her to insanity.”

There was a moment of silence.

“So… save them both by sendin’ them back ta Talon,” McCree drawled, “Or lose them both by tryin’ to save one of em.”

“ _Aren’t you glad we’re not in charge and having to make these decisions, Jackie?_ ” He asked Jack.

“Definitely,” Jack sighed.

* * *

Angela pulled him, Jack and Ana aside.

“He doesn’t want Talon to have her again,” Angela sighed, “He wants me to… see if I can get her to cooperate.”

“She won’t unless you undo that neural rewiring of hers,” Ana said, “You’ll have to bring back Amélie again.”

“…I honestly don’t know what to do, I know both sides of this, I realize what could happen,” Angela groaned,, rubbing her temples, “I would honestly prefer to send her back but… I don’t even know where to begin.”

“ _Well, you can at least take away some of her skill, first at least,_ ” He said, “ _They did something to her to steady her, made her heart beat a lot less, easier to hold her breath and hold it longer, dulled her emotions down until she couldn’t feel anything. Start there and you’ve at least put her skill back awhile._ ”

“I suppose, but I’ll need to fly in psychiatric help,” Angela sighed, “I know the body, not the mind. Not to mention she will need help… coming to terms…”

“ _With killing her beloved husband,_ ” He finished.

“Please don’t remind me that I’m putting yet another one of my friends through hell, _again,_ ” Angela muttered.

“You’re not, Angie,” Jack said, trying to be comforting.

“I am… now… leave me to my work,” The angel of mercy sighed.

* * *

Hana was usually everyone’s evening entertainment and they were unsure how to proceed when the evening rolled on by. However, Reinhardt solved that problem by getting out a projector, a microphone and a couple pots of his strong as hell coffee.

“Let’s see… testing, testing, testing!” Reinhardt said over the mic.

The holo-screen flickered and Hana’s stream page popped up. Hana, wearing a baggy tee and lounging on what looked like a giant rabbit in her face cam, broke out in a grin.

“I can hear you Reinhardt!” She chimed.

“Hana, good to hear from you! How was your ride over to Korea?”

Hana talked for a bit as they watched her stream. Her flight was good, though she found out that Winston was a nervous flyer, made a bunch of jokes at his expense. She told them a bit about how the plane food sucked but her dad had a welcoming feast waiting for her when she got home. With the… excitement that came with Widowmaker’s appearance, they had apparently missed her and her dad PvPing.

“Oh my god, I had sooooo many viewers,” Hana said over her stream, “The most I’ve ever had, I’m so jealous of my dad’s subscriber count. I got a bunch of subscribers from it, but I’m so jealous. He makes so much serious bank from streams.”

“Good to hear from you!” Reinhardt said, “You would not believe what happened here while you were gone!”

“REINHARDT!” They all yelled.

“Oh um…. There was an… actual black widow spider, um,” Reinhardt said, looking at everyone to give him some clue to subtly clue Hana to what happened, “Gabriel tried to destroy it and Lena wanted to let it go so she smacked him and now we’re got it in a jar.”

Hana looked completely befuddled before understanding crossed her eyes. Smart kid.

“Ooh! Wicked cool, you know I’ve only seen black widows in the distance before, I bet it was cool up close,” Hana said, “You know, I think I heard Angela talking to Winston about it. He was kind mad you guys wanted to keep it, what with it being a deadly killer after all, but not my choice.”

Well, now they knew where Hana stood on the issue. Thankfully Lena had retired for the evening, already being told that there would be dire consequences if she tried to see Widowmaker. Now it was just everyone settling down for the evening and trying to take micro sips of the hellfire coffee. But the lack of jovial or light mood was prominent as they thought about it.

“I miss you already, Hana,” Reinhardt grinned, as though the microphone could convey his smile.

“I miss you guys too!” Hana grinned, “Especially Gabe’s cooking, don’t tell my old man, but Gabe’s cooking is better.”

He felt a smirk on his face as he gingerly took a sip from his cup.

“Whoop, looks like I’m getting a PvP invite, are you guys gonna stick around on call?” Hana asked.

“Of course! Let us cheer you onto victory!” Reinhardt yelled.

“Yay! My own cheer squad!” Hana cheered right back.

* * *

[Entering Channel: Ship Names Need Some Work]

MCCREE: oh my god, please don’t call us McHanzo  
MCCREE: sounds like yer tryin to order a burger  
HANZO: I concur.  
MCCREE: east and west though  
HANZO: No.  
SOMBRA: omg I’m scouring the internet for ship names now  
SOMBRA: Just you wait  
SOMBRA: @GABE @GABE paaapppiiiiii, yours is sooo unimaginative. Reaper76.  
GABE: It’s not like anyone really knows our names. Hana’s streamers mostly just know codenames  
SOMBRA: *GASP* blondie and Fareeha have the best. Pharmercy, holy shit I am jealous  
MCCREE: holy shit that’s good  
MCCREE: darlin’ why can’t we have a nice ship name like that?  
HANZO: Because we’re real people and not meant to be toyed with by people on the internet.  
MCCREE: …true  
SOMBRA: Not to mention there’s some real gross fanart already  
HANZO: …  
MCCREE: …  
GENJI: …  
ZEN: …  
SOMBRA: I see what Hana meant by ‘it would have been easier to ride the horse’  
MCCREE: i dont know if that was a compliment or an insult  
GABE: Kids, knock it off  
SOMBRA: Si papi  
MCCREE: yes dad  
GENJI: I haven’t done anything!  
GABE: You’re the only good kid, Genji  
GENJI: =D  
REIN: Keep it up Gabriel, you’ll have more children then Torbjörn!  
TROJN: Unlikely, I’ve got twins on the way  
GABE: … Trob you need to invest in your game  
GABE: Your pull out game  
TROJN: FIGHT ME YOU OLD EDGE LORD  
GABE: BRING IT YOU SWEDISH FUCK  
SOMBRA: XD  
MCCREE: You got this dad I believe in you!  
GENJI: You can win Gabe!  
TROJN: WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU I’M COMING FOR YOU!!???  
GABE: Come to Jack’s room in the next fifteen minutes if you want an ass kicking Swed  
TROJN: …you know what, I think I’m good  
TROJN: Don’t want to see you two doing gay shit  
GABE: Trob’s fragile heterosexuality in the works everyone  
JACK: Well since he’s not coming this way  
JACK: @Gabe let’s do this ‘gay shit’  
GABE: If you insist Jackie  
SOMBRA: GAAAAYYY  
MCCREE: ggaaaayyyyy  
GENJI: GGAAAYYYYYYY  
HANA: GAAAAAYYYYY  
SOMBRA: CHICA!  
SOMBRA: Taking a break from your stream I see<3  
HANA: Only for a hot tick to eat something  
HANA: Holy shit they actually left chat  
HANA: They actually left to do gay shit  
HANA: I love and miss you guys so much I can’t even lmao

* * *

Truthfully they were just organizing Jack’s room to be a bit more hospitable.

“ _You need a fucking file cabinet, Jackie,_ ” He said as he handed another pile of papers to Jack, “ _Or at least know when to throw shit out._ ”

“All these notes are important,” Jack retorted as he added the papers to the worrying stacks on his desk.

“ _This one is just a note saying you need to pick up more ammo,_ ” He said before Jack snatched the note from his hands.

“That is important,” Jack said, though tossed the note in the rubbish bin.

They bickered good-naturedly back and forth until they had somewhat tamed the wild mess that Jack’s room. When that was done, Jack hauled his sheets and blankets to the laundry room and came back with a clean set. When that was done the window got cracked open a bit and finally they ended up flopping on the bed. Jack took off his visor and mask and set them on the ground and off to the side where they would not be stepped on.

“It’ll get better babe,” Jack said before landing a kiss on his forehead.

“ _I really hope so, Jackie,_ ” He said before returning the kiss.

* * *

“Gabriel, how would you feel about going through your last treatment today?” Angela asked him the following morning.

To keep her mind of her impending work, Angela busied herself with running him through numerous medical trials, the standard blood tests and the like as she evaluated his current health status. Thankfully everything seemed just fine, his blood was even a lovely shade of dark red when she drew it from his arm.

“ _Only if you think I’m ready, Angela,_ ” He rasped.

“It would be nice to have something crossed off my list, so I can focus on Amélie when the time comes,” Angela said, scratching away on a clipboard, “Not to mention, I’m sure you wouldn’t want a relapse back into violent cell decay. Though judging by your blood work, those mysterious chemicals that they pumped into you are certain working their charms on your cells.”

“ _What?_ ”

“Basically you’ll go back to being a super soldier after this last treatment, the enhanced reflexes, accelerated healing time, enhanced strength, all of those things that are highly classified to me,” Angela said, “Are you ready?”

“ _I’m ready to not be Reaper anymore, Angie_ ” He said firmly.

“Gabriel, you haven’t really been Reaper for at least a month,” Angela grinned.

“ _Ye of too much faith,_ ” He snarked back, though good-naturedly.

“I will get all of our healers to help me, I want to make sure that this is _perfect,_ ” Angela said, “Your recovery will work. It’s the last leg of your healing, Gabriel.”

“ _Couldn't have done this without you, Angie_ ” He smiled, " _I owe you for so much._ "

"We're friends, Gabriel," Angela smiled, "We save each other when we can. I'll just bank this in case I need someone to cover me on the field."

* * *

“I can’t believe you found it,” Genji laughed as he looked at the picture pulled up on screen.

“Damn, everyone in Blackwatch ‘ere just edgy motherfuckers, weren’t we?” McCree laughed, “I fergot ya kept the proud Shimada tradition of the left tit bein’ out.”

Currently on the rec room holo-screen screen, an old dredged up training video of Genji when he was in Blackwatch and Tracer before she was redeployed. In an effort to entertain themselves while they waited for Gabriel to be done in Angela’s clinic with all the healers on team and for it to be Hana’s streaming time in her new time-zone, Sombra had cracked open a few age declassified files.

The group watched a red eyed Genji hack and slash at a bouncing and blinking away Lena as they took shots and slices at each other. They watched the younger form of Genji violently hack and slash at Lena, who seemed slightly fearful of the angry and angsty ninja. They got quite the number of shots of the dark and silvery machinery and the prominent red glow that emitted both from his mechanical parts and his eyes.

“The signature black and red was classy as fuck though,” McCree chuckled.

“Hmm,” Genji pondered as he looked at the screen, “Brother, you don’t perhaps wear that sleeve down in memory of me, do you?”

“That is ridiculous,” Hanzo snapped, clearly in a sour mood.

“But brother, you expose your shoulder along generally the same angle that you cut me in half, also say all you want about ‘you need that arm free to move’, there are form fitting shirts that you could wear or armor you could use but you leave that side completely exposed. Do you really have that side of your body exposed in memory of me?”

Hanzo glared darkly at his younger brother. But the younger sibling just stared earnestly.

“…Ya know, sometimes you surprise me with how touching ya can be,” McCree smirked at Hanzo.

“Silence, cowman,” Hanzo grumbled, folding his arms across his chest.

“MY BROTHER LOVES ME!” Genji yelled, jumping up and pouncing on the archer. McCree laughed as the two fell to the ground in an awkward tangle of prosthetic limbs.

“Now, now boys,” Reinhardt said, chasing after the scuffling brothers. 

Torbjörn lifted up his legs as the brother rolled by him, pointedly ignoring everyone as he read something on his comm device and mindlessly drank the hell swill that Reinhardt had brewed another round of. Fareeha lifted her legs, and thus Satya, up out of the way as the brothers tumbled around them. Mei and Zarya laughed at them as the brothers passed them. Finally the Junkers watched the brothers roll around, Junkrat giggling that high pitched giggle of his.

The tussle came to the end when Hanzo pinned Genji to the ground.

“You skipped leg day to do arm days, I see,” Genji grunted, writing underneath his top heavy brother.

“Idiot,” Hanzo said before letting his brother up. The second however, that Genji was freed, he tackled his brother and the two were at it again.

“You wouldn’t think that they were in their later thirties,” Fareeha snickered.

“I’m only 35!” Genji managed between wild movements.

“Honestly you two, the Junkers are behaving better,” Reinhardt said, finally grabbing Genji around the waist and grabbing the back of Hanzo’s punk shirt and holding the two boys apart.

“He’s got to be older then us,” Genji said, fighting against the massive fingers almost circling his waist.

“I’m only 23!” Junkrat snapped.

“25,” Roadhog corrected.

“…Well that can’t be right,” Junkrat muttered, looking confused.

“Behave, or the good doctor will hear about you boy’s rough housing, and you all know how she is after working,” Reinhardt said, putting Hanzo down next to McCree and Genji down next to Fareeha. “I wonder if Gabriel’s treatment is going well. Angela made it seem like a big deal…”

“Angela said that each time they force Gabriel’s body through a treatment, a sort of ‘backlash’ occurs where Gabriel’s body tries to reject everything. She described the last time as… ‘gruesome’,” Fareeha said.

There was a pause.

“Considerin’ she’s been elbows deep in intestines and gore, that’s somethin’,” McCree drawled.

“I hope Gabriel is okay.”

* * *

“Hey Jack,” He wheezed wetly as Angela wiped some of the blood off of his face, eyelids struggling to coordinate with each other, “You remember back when they were pumping shit into us back in SEP? Remember all those times we were puking blood all over each other and felt like we were dying because our organs were going to shit and pretty much pureeing in our own bellies? I miss those days, they were a fucking cakewalk compared to _that_.”

“It’s all over, just remember that,” Jack said, “You’re back and you sound a bit less like an edge lord.”

“Shit, I can’t tell, my ears are ringing,” He laughed, but his laughter soon turned to wheezing and a new trickle of foul blood escaped his mouth. Angela hurried collected it with the blood heavy cloth before laying a blood stained hand against his forehead. Her hand was cold, or he was feverish, either way he could not tell.

“I’m going to keep you overnight in here, just in case,” Angela muttered.

“Ugh,” He groaned.

“Gabriel, internal bleeding is not normal for humans and guess what? You’re a human again, so it’s not normal and it’s also _not good_ ,” Angela tisked, “Now, I assume you’ll keep Gabriel in bed, Jack? While the rest of us wipe off all _this_ …”

Lúcio pulled a chunk of black flesh off of Zenyatta’s face plates, chuckling when Zenyatta made a noise of disgust. Ana had shucked her jacket and was staring at the stains covering them. Angela herself mostly had stains on her arms and hands, a few flecks decorating her pale cheeks. They honestly looked like they had just slain monsters rather than dealt with the final backlash from his formerly fucked up cells.

Angela shooed Lúcio, Zenyatta and Ana out of the room and left the two of them alone, telling them quietly that she would be back in a moment. Jack sat next to him as the door closed, reaching down and stroking his blood tacky face.

“Nice to have you back, Gabriel Reyes,” Jack snarked.

“Yeah, yeah,” He sighed before yanking Jack down into bed with him and squeezing him tight and close despite the protests about the blood, “Nice to be back, white boy, Jackie boy, _mi amor_.”

“Shut up, you old edge lord,” Jack groaned, wriggling in his grasp.

“Stale old cracker Jack.”

“I hate you,” Jack chuckled.

“ _Te amo,_ ” He purred back, yanking Jack’s mask off to kiss him.


	22. Barrier Projector

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: The usual ships, implied blossoming Sombra/Hana 'D.Va' Song
> 
> A fail safe activates and there's a question on everyone's mind: "Is it time to go public with Overwatch?"
> 
> We're very near the end, I swear, so thank you all so much for reading this so far! I'm not sure what I'll do next, but I'll probably be Overwatch since I'm in too deep.
> 
> Have a good morning/afternoon/night pups!

Waking up in Angela’s little private room felt strangely comfortable, even more so with Jack tucked into his side as tightly as possible, a too small bed trying to fit two rather large bodies. But he felt so warm, so comfortable and most importantly, _safe_. What a strange and unique sensation, the sensation of being safe.

“ _Guten tag_ , Gabriel,” Angela said, drawing his eyes to seeing the blonde doctor sitting at the counter. By her elbow were four cups of coffee, all empty he was going to assume.

“Stressed?” He asked softly, not moving so not to disturb Jack.

“Yes, I found a specialist to work with Amélie,” Angela said, “I’ll be flying her in here shortly. But not only that but rumors that Overwatch have reformed are circling again and Winston is breathing down my neck to keep a collar on everyone and keep everyone on base.”

“I’d help…” He grunted but then coughed and tasted a very slight copper taste in the back of his throat.

“If you get up out of that bed I’ll have Ana dart you with enough sleep darts to keep you sedated for a week,” Angela said dryly, glaring daggers at him.

“Yes ma’am,” He said quietly.

“Good… now…” Angela sighed, tapping away at a data-pad, “I need to figure out how to undo whatever it is that is slowing down her heart and blood supply… I’m surprised that she hasn’t suffered much hypoxia, I wonder if she has a supplement system to provide oxygen without her needing to actually breathe in…”

Letting Angela do her thing, he nuzzled into Jack’s mess of silvery hair.

Safe and sound, something that he thought he had given up on years ago.

* * *

[Entering Channel: Put it on Shimada’s Tab]

GABE: …  
GABE: What the fuck?  
SOMBRA: Hola papá  
SOMBRA: I’ve been stealing shit for Genji  
SOMBRA: And consequently Hanzo  
GENJI: I’m RICH!!!  
GABE: **SOMBRA.**  
SOMBRA: From the Shimada clan! D:  
SOMBRA: Last I checked they were a criminal organization that wants them both dead!!  
HANZO: I…  
HANZO: I do not know what to do with this much money.  
SOMBRA: JAJAJA  
SOMBRA: Lavish your boyfriend, amigo  
HANZO: … twenty dollars is lavish to Jesse.  
SOMBRA: JAJAJAJAJA  
GABE: You calling my boy cheap?  
HANZO: I am calling him a man of simple tastes.  
GENJI: And in Hanzo’s words, ‘there’s beauty in simplicity,’  
MCCREE: yer so cute when ya blush darlin’  
HANZO: …

[HANZO has temporarily banned GENJI]

ZEN: This is not a good way to express your embarrassment, Hanzo

[HANZO has temporarily banned ZEN]

SOMBRA: Ah hell no  
SOMBRA: You don’t ban Master Zenyatta!

[SOMBRA has unbanned ZEN]  
[SOMBRA has unbanned GENJI]

GABE: Didn’t think you cared much for anyone so soon  
SOMBRA: Zen is cool  
ZEN: I am flattered  
GENJI: Hanzo I am back from the dead… again  
HANZO: …

[SOMBRA has changed the channel named from : Put it on the Shimada’s Tab to: I’M BACK BITCH]

GENJI: Thank you Sombra  
HANA: Well that’s a chat name to come back to  
SOMBRA: HANA!!!<3<3  
GENJI: I once again came back from Hanzo trying to get rid of me  
HANA: I’d be careful, he’s probably get a bigger bubble butt  
GENJI: I do not!  
ZEN: My dear sparrow…  
ZEN: You do  
GENJI: M-m-master!!  
TROJN: Don’t you fuckin dare overheat on my watch!!  
GENJI: I DO NOT HAVE A BUBBLE BUTT

[SOMBRA has shared an image: before-after-compariso]

GENJI: ….  
GENJI: …. @ANGELA I need answers  
SOMBRA: JAJAJAJA  
HANA: KKKKK  
SOMBRA: Wait, you’re not alone!

[SOMBRA has shared an image: before-after-comparison-gabeverison]

GABE: …  
HANA: What the heck, do I need to die to get a rocking bode or something??  
MCCREE: ‘parently  
HANA: WAIT  
HANA: THERE IS AN EXCEPTION TO THE RULE  
HANA: YOU COULD END UP LIKE JACK  
GABE: He had a flat ass before his ‘death’  
JACK: …thanks  
GABE: Morning Jackie  
JACK: Dont morning Jackie me  
GABE: You know you’re lying right next to me  
GABE: You can say this to my face  
GABE: OW  
SOMBRA: JAJAJA  
HANA: KKKKK what’d he do??  
GABE: He bit me  
HANA: KINKY  
ANGELA: i was binged and once again I experience this nonsense  
GENJI: I’M SO SORRY  
ANGELA: has anyone seen lena?  
SOMBRA: She’s been skyping her girlfriend for a couple of hours now  
SOMBRA: Her girlfriend is like… really chill and understanding  
SOMBRA: Like… ‘I triple checked her background’ scary understanding  
HANA: I’m pretty sure anyone would be at least kinda understanding with the whole ‘my thought dead girlfriend came back from the grave and she was shooting at us and now I’m going to lose her to herself’ story  
SOMBRA: True… kinda sad  
GABE: Hey Sombra, have you been quelling these Overwatch rumors?  
SOMBRA: Yeah, I’m junk data spamming pages trying to circulate the rumors until they crash, reporting pages and sending them into ‘report pending hell’ and sometimes crushing pages  
SOMBRA: In order for it not to look weird it’s a… process  
GABE: Thanks  
SOMBRA: Speaking of which, I’m sorry to say Chica, but your stream’s RP page is next  
HANA: YOU HAVE MY BLESSING  
SOMBRA: Fwahahahahaha  
GABE: …Dare I ask?  
HANA: Two words… Winston… 18+rp  
GENJI: …  
MCCREE: ….  
HANZO: …  
GABE: …  
GABE: Pull the trigger Sombra

* * *

Angela ‘released’ him after his cough died down and she had run him through every medical test that she could think of. She was ever so grateful that everything seemed normal, that his blood was a healthy shade of red and that he seemed fully incapable of using any of his Reaper powers. But she was also cautious because she knew that his body’s physiologically was dependent on that unique rapid cell decay and regeneration for a number of years.

She told him to find her if he felt sick at all before she went to the helipad to greet the expert that would start on undoing Amélie’s brainwashed mind.

He and Jack found most everyone in the rec room watching Hana stream some more Starcraft. However, instead of most everyone vegetating out as they watched here, there was a lot of bottles of dingy nail-polish and the thin Junker carefully laying down surprisingly neat stripes of green nail-polish on Genji’s sole human hand. Actually, now that he looked around, he saw that most everyone was admiring rather neat and shiny coats of nail-polish.

“I miss something?” He asked.

“Who the…” Genji said, looking up to him and then Jack before looking back at him, “Did… did you say something, Gabriel?”

“Yeah, I’d have gone with a brighter shade of green to make your neon, ninja,” He snarked.

“Holy shit, you don’t sound like an edge lord,” Genji snarked right back.

“Sounds like his old self back in the golden days,” McCree said, giving his fresh coat of pink nail-polish a quick few puffs to help dry them.

“So I’m not judging, but why the nail-polish party?” He asked, watching Junkrat stroke on neat line after neat line of green on Genji’s nails. He honestly never thought the small Junker capable of such steady and intricate movements but Junkrat honestly seemed quite in control of the heavily controlled movements.

“Roadie’s didn’t need his done,” Junkrat said, licking his lower lip as he carefully did the edge of Genji’s middle nail.

“Shit’s not coming off,” Roadhog said simply, looking at his 95% intact black coat.

“I never realized that this paint came in metallic!” Reinhardt grinned as he looked at his steel colored nails.

“…you got black?” He asked.

“Hell yeah, pick a shade!” Junkrat said, gesturing to the selection by his elbow.

“How many shades of black can there be?” Jack asked as he looked.

“Remind me to tell you about ‘true black’ at one point, Jackie,” He said.

“I got that, somewhere about… stole the pigment and made it me self.”

“Hell yeah.”

Lena came out of her room at one point, eyes red and puffy and the tip of her nose an agitated pink. She said nothing but chose a seat away from everyone one, stole a couch cushion and grasped it to herself like an anchoring thing. It was a bit tense for a moment as they were worried what she would do if anyone so much as looked at her wrong. But then Junkrat loudly asked if she wanted her nails done and when she did not say ‘no’ so, the Junker took to painting her toes with clear polish and rainbow sparkles. After the third toe she finally cracked a smile.

“…Sorry for things getting heated and tense yesterday,” He finally said.

“It’s okay, I’m sorry too for… getting defensive,” Lena said softly, “I was just so upset to hear… about Amé.”

“Understandable,” He said.

They fell into much more comfortable silence as they listened to Hana decimate players on her game and Junkrat as he started humming the first few lines to 1812 Overture, complete with cannon sounds.

* * *

A few hours into Hana’s stream and they saw part of her dad slip into her face-cam.

“Hey dad, what’s up?” Hana asked, not looking away from her game.

They could only hear part of his muffled voice over the audio feed, but whatever he said made the jovial expression on her face drop like a rock. They saw her hands go tense on her keyboard and her face turn sickly pale.

“W-what?” She almost _whimpered_.

Whatever her dad said next was again mostly lost on the audio feed but they did catch ‘on the news’ before Hana’s stream cut. They only had a moment to even wonder what in the hell was going on when Sombra pulled up her interface and clicked away until she found some generic news station. Someone dull cookie cutter news man stared dully at the screen while the Overwatch symbol hovered behind him on the green screen.

_“… Overwatch has been disbanded for five years now at the request of the UN, but it seems that they have formed once again despite every law telling them no. A anonymous file was sent out this morning to every new station in the world with detailed pictures of both former members and new members forming…”_

A few rather detailed grey scale pictures flashed on screen; McCree and Hanzo shooting down drones along the perimeter, Genji and Master Zenyatta sitting on the roof meditating, an image of Angela and Lena wearing civilian clothing in what looked like a store. A picture of the Junker boys throwing explosives into the ocean and Bastion sitting with Ganymede in the sun.

 _“…The so called hero conglomerate appears to now hire killers, outlaws, terrorists and other unpleasant people. This includes Jesse McCree, wanted outlaw in Mexico, South American and along the American west coast. Jamison ‘Junkrat’ Fawkes and his cohort Roadhog, wanted criminals all over the world for various criminal acts including mass murder, mass arson, terrorism, and hundreds of bombings and explosions. Hanzo and Genji Shimada, yakuza and part of the mass criminal family, the Shimada clan. And then finally, a Bastion unit, one of many weapons of mass destruction that was used in the Omnic Crisis…_ ”

Bastion suddenly collapsed into their tank form metal sides clanging loudly as they beeped sadly. Hanzo looked beyond furious and the tattoo along his arm started glowing slightly and _shifting_ along his skin, like the dragons were clawing to get out. Genji went deathly still before Master Zenyatta clasped both of his hands on his student’s shoulders. Junkrat did not seem fazed by the news but Roadhog went still all over and clenched those massive hands of his until his knuckles bulged obscenely.

_“…The UN is now trying to contact anyone of these people to get an explanation, but I for one, think this is all pretty self explanatory. A bunch of vigilantes want to play hero, thinking that they can do whatever they want because they think they know what is best for everyone. This is—“_

Sombra cut the feed, looking like she was going to be sick. But then she steadied herself, took in a deep breathing and expanded her interface and began doing what she did best.

Fuck shit up electronically.

* * *

Angela came up not long after they got the news, looking panicked and pale. It was her order that no one leave the base and immediately have Hana and Winston informed about what was going on. They were told to feign ignorance of Overwatch’s activities to outside sources. If they were pried for information, they were to go with the story that Sombra helped fake, a story of Winston offering to help Korea with their Omnic threat.

There was of course a matter of debate about how to deal with the photos of their less then reputable members, especially those dealing with Jesse, the brother and the Junkers, but there was not much they could do. The photos were all clearly from the same general area and some of the members that would never naturally bump into each other were shot together. Sombra tried her best to spread rumors about the photos being faked, but the world was slowly gathering together and breathing down their neck about the reformation of Overwatch.

The first three days with Athena cutting all but a few lines of communication were kind of hellish. Most everyone was tense, too tense as everyone seemingly held their breath and waited for… _something to happen._ The only thing that took the edge of was training and since not much sleep was being had, they ended up training most of those three days.

He saw the brothers use their dragons and since they were not aimed at him, it was less panic inducing and more awe inspiring. When he watched, he found that Genji had the most control over his singular dragon. Guiding around the dragon seemed natural and almost… amicable between the two. But when Hanzo guided his dragons, the archer almost seemed to drive his dragons through raw fury and emotion. The twin dragons writhed and roared so loud that the stones around them seemed to shake and bristled with raw energy and feeling.

“It used to be,” Ana started, stepping up on the side that Jack was not, “To get something extraordinary, you needed to pump someone with chemicals or cram of lot of mechanical parts into them. This… this I would dare call magic.”

“We live in a weird world, Ana,” He mused as he watched the brothers dissipate their dragons, “Killer AI gods, sentient AI living ordinary lives, time displaced fighters… I can’t really find myself surprised that these two can pull dragons out of themselves.”

“…I am… worried,” Ana sighed after a moment as they watched Fareeha and Reinhardt take to the training room. Jesse greeted Hanzo happily up where everyone was watching from a walkway above. “I watched Overwatch stutter and fail and then fall apart. I watched friends get arrested, flee country or just disappear off the face of the planet. Most of my friends are dead or just… vanished. All these new faces… they are too young to have to go through what we did.”

“They don’t have me in charge to ruin it all again,” He muttered.

“There were many factors that lead to the first Overwatch’s down fall,” Jack said, bumping shoulders with him, “None of us are in charge to fuck things up again.”

“…What are we going to do?”

“Wait and see, I guess.”

“If all else fails… we do what we do best.”

* * *

Stick a number of high strung and not all mentally sound people together and there was liable to be some rather intense cabin fever, especially with how powerful some of them were. So he was surprised that at the beginning of the forth day everyone was too worried about everyone else to really think about how none of them had had any fresh air in seventy some odd hours. 

Junkrat was getting a bit twitchy, but had already forked over every explosive that he had ‘as not to bully anythin’ up’ and Roadhog helped keep him calm enough not to make everyone worry. Lena made full use of the training room to run laps when she got edgy and used Sombra’s secured line to keep up with Emily. Genji and Master Zenyatta meditated and offered to guide anyone that wanted to meditate as well. Hanzo and McCree blew off steam trying to outshoot the other in the training range, though now instead of bragging about winning they congratulated each other on how well they did and offered critique. Sombra chatted constantly with Hana, making sure that she and Winston were safe over in Korea and that Hana’s dad was safe and telling her that she would destroy the lives of anyone that tried any shit.

Fareeha and Satya were usually found hovering by Angela, helping her when they could, Satya using her Vishkar contacts where she could and Fareeha using her security contacts here and there. Torbjörn, Reinhardt, Zarya and Mei helped Athena bulk up her defenses through various methods like turrets, re-calibrating her reaction times and Torbjörn finally getting to beef up the turrets and defense system with something just slightly more lethal. Lúcio rallied his fans to help combat these rumors, encouraging people to wait for all the facts rather then start a witch hunt over a few odd photos. Bastion kept Ganymede close and rolled out when the team needed something a bit sturdier then a cam drone came into Athena’s perimeter. 

Jack, Ana and himself found themselves lending hands where they could. As it turned out, despite their age, there would always be use for two super soldiers and a medic sniper. They helped test out the training room if Athena wanted to release new programs, took over watch so people could sleep, encouraged people **too** sleep and eat, took care of the bulk of domestic chores and kept watching the news for updates.

Their efforts seemed to be working a bit, at the start of the fourth day most stations were skeptical about the information or stopped reporting about it entirely. A few outspoken individuals were even saying that this was a blatant smear campaign on surviving Overwatch members and demanded that they be left alone. A few stations were adamant, but it looked like the tides were turning in their favor.

“It’d be nice ta open a winda er sumthin’,” McCree drawled out as they watched a station give up and start reporting on something else, “Just ta git rid of some of these jitters.”

“When everything is calm down, I want to go to the beach some time,” He sighed, squeezing the arm he had around a snoozing Jack’s shoulders. “Just somewhere quiet and hot and without having to look over our shoulders all the damned time.”

“Remember that one resort we snuck inta after that one op?” McCree chuckled, “Man, I’d kill to go back there.”

“Hush, I never snuck you and Genji onto a five star resort,” He snarked, giving a scowling Jack a rather sheepish grin.

“Riiiiigghhhht,” McCree laughed, Jack’s scowl only spurring their laughter on until their eyes stung with unshed tears.

“Out of all the stupid illegal shit I’ve heard you’ve done on Blackwatch dime, babe,” Jack scowled at the two of them, “That has to be up there in the dumbest.”

“But not _the_ dumbest? What’s the dumbest thing ya caught Gabe doin’?”

“You two getting shit faced on Marda Gras, but I don’t think you two remember that,” Jack said, elbowing him when he tried to cover the man’s mouth.

“Wait, I knew I got shit faced and went shoppin’ ‘nd shit, but _you_ got drunk, Gabe?” McCree almost sounded offended.

“…There may have been some drinks…” He admitted.

“And drunk dick pics,” Jack said before he could stop him.

Jesse roared with laughter as he pouted at Jack for revealing the night that he had berated Jesse so much for was also a not so flattering night for him. But then Jack smirked and he could not resist laughing as well and for a moment they forgot about the tense air and just laughed at themselves.

* * *

“Things have calmed down some,” He mentioned on the fifth day of lockdown to Angela as she bent over her notes.

“Things are still a bit tense in regards to UN,” Angela said, “Winston is leaving Hana to fly out to Europe to meet with a few representatives, but he has said that… it might be time.”

“Time to try and fight those laws and publically declare Overwatch reformed?”

“Winston doesn’t want to, but he’s said that if they UN reps seem favorable that he might mention it, though downplay how far we have come. I am sure that we will quickly lose what sympathy that there _might_ be for us. Not to mention, some of our members…”

“Jack, Ana, Sombra and I would make this look _real_ bad, I understand,” He sighed.

“Well, maybe not bad so much as draw a lot of attention that might not be good right away,” Angela said, twirling her pen idly, “Last time Overwatch formed, it was huge. There was a huge ceremony and we were in the news for months, the expectations were set so high because of how many eyes were cast on us. Maybe starter smaller would help…?”

“Well, anything and everything that could have gone wrong went wrong, so we know pretty much know everything not to do,” He shrugged.

“Hmm, I’ve been thinking… who would you want to be in charge if we officially went public?” Angela asked.

“Winston,” He said without missing a beat, “He’s doing a hell of a job so far, why fix something that’s not broken?”

“That is very kind of you, Gabe,” Angela beamed at him.

“Not kind, just common sense… did you really think I would have said ‘Me’ or ‘Jack’?”

“No, I suppose not, just with how you and Winston do not get along well, I did not think that you would so easily suggest that he’s the best fit for command,” Angela mused, taking up one of her many cups of coffee. Judging by her soured expression though, the cup that she had grabbed was empty, as was the next two that she grabbed.

“Just because we don’t like each other doesn’t mean I won’t admit that he’s right for the job. Because out of anyone, he seems just perfect for the job. He also seems a lot better at PR then any of us were back in the golden days.”

“Agent Ziegler, Operative Winston is currently on the line,” Athena informed them.

“I’ll leave,” He said, hopping off the counter.

“Oh stay, its best that you two work together if you two ever want to work together,” Angela tisked, already flicking through her comm and pulling up a small holo-screen to facetime with Winston.

Winston’s haggard face appeared in the screen for a moment. Despite the natural heaviness to his face, Winston seemed all the more tired and even angry and dare he say… tired.

Winston looked at him briefly before settling on Angela, choosing not to acknowledge his presence. Better then getting growled at like when Efi was introduced, he figured. He offered a acknowledging nod back as Winston shoved his glassed back up where they were supposed to rest.

“Guten tag Winston, how are you?” Angela chimed cheerfully.

“Ah... yes… hello Angela, calling for an update as usual,” Winston rasped, sounding as tired as he looked.

“Everything is quiet on our end. The new stations are slowly trickling off on reporting on the photos. We’re also getting less foreign drones on the perimeter. Work with Amélie is… slow. From what the specialist told me it appears that Amélie has worked through small parts of her neural rewiring, but the core of it is still very stubbornly there.” Angela tapped her pen with each new bit of information and threw away three more empty coffee cups.

“How is everyone on lock down?” Winston asked. In the edge of the screen he saw the colorful top of a peanut butter jar for a moment before it disappeared. He wondered if he could lose a tiny bit of Winston’s ire by bribing him with mass quantities of the stuff.

“Surprisingly well, most everyone is just worried about what is happening to worry about space and air,” Angela sighed, “I will be glad when we can open some windows or at least go out into the courtyard again.”

“Hopefully soon, I will be meeting with some of the UN representatives the day after tomorrow and hopefully something good will come of this mess… did you find the leak?” Winston asked.

“Sombra said that it was a failsafe plan if Amélie failed her assassination. She took the photos while she was waiting for McCree to come out of the base and sent them to Talon. When she failed to report in, Talon released them through various anonymous channels. The anonymity of the photos’ source had played in part in our favor but…”

Winston groaned deeply and for a moment they saw the peanut butter jar before it vanished again.

“Talon… what a mess,” Winston sighed.

“A good thing they are basically crippled without their three top operatives and Sombra basically having all their information at hand?” Angela attentively said.

“I suppose,” Winston said with a roll of his eyes, “I am glad for the extra help though, especially with the skills that Gabriel and Sombra bring. We will need to make full use of Gabriel’s former training and leadership skills and then Sombra’s hacking skills.”

“Happy to help,” He said quietly.

“Alright, I have a flight to catch and a number of speeches to prepare, thank you for the update, Angela,” Winston said.

“No problem, look after your health now.”

“Be well, Winston,” Athena said overhead.

“Winston out.”

Angela sighed before cutting the line and putting her comm device away. She offered him a smile that got interrupted by her stomach growling loudly, causing the good doctor to blush pink.

“How long have you been living off coffee?” He chuckled.

“Too long it seems, I don’t suppose it’s…”

“I can make you something, though I’m thack you with a spatula if you go anywhere near that monster coffee machine.”

“Oooh, if you insist,” Angela laughed.

* * *

At the end of the week Athena lifted the lockdown and windows were gratefully thrown open. 

The Junker boys celebrated freedom by carting out two crates of explosives and proceeded to throw them into the ocean and create massive waves from the explosions. Lena bounced outside and proceeded to face time with Emily underneath the sun for the first time in a week. Bastion zoomed out with Ganymede in tow. Torbjörn reluctantly downgraded the defense system with Reinhardt.

A number of other operatives thoroughly enjoyed the courtyard and the fresh air, running around outside or finding spots to soak up the sun. A few suggested swimming but then it was pointed out how far the sea was from anywhere of the outcropping of buildings, so a few suggested hooking up hoses and making the down flowing lane inside the base a slip and slide.

Before someone could suggest that that was a really bad idea, Angela asked Jack and himself to do a supply run.

“I’m sorry, but since you two aren’t really well known…” Angela said.

“No, that makes sense… you are going to stop them, right?” He asked, watching Genji spray down the road.

“I’m deciding if they should suffer the consequences of their own actions or to stop them,” Angela replied dully, glaring darkly, “But that’s here nor there. Here is a credit card and I have set a number of civilian clothing in Jack’s quarters for you two to wear, _please_ be inconspicuous.”

“Ye of little faith,” He tisked as he took the credit card and pocketed.

“Pardon me, I’m just watching a man in his mid-thirties about to try and slide on his belly down a water slick road,” Angela replied dryly.

He turned around and watched the travesty unfold, keeping his eyes on it even as Jack started pulling him away.

“Come on, I have to keep you from wearing all black.”

“Black is classy,” He snarked.

“Not on a fifty six year old man,” Jack snapped.

“Fine, but you’re using a goddamn cane because no self respecting fifty five year old man wears a high tech visor like some VR junkie.”

“Why do I love you again?”

“Cause I have a rocking bode.”

“…Those thighs are to die for…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come on my [tumblr](https://nevaryadlwrites.tumblr.com/) to say hi, chat me up or stalk what I'm doing!


	23. Tinseltown and Family Reunions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Gabriel Reyes/Jack Morrison, Jesse McCree/Hanzo Shimada, Genji Shimada/Tekhartha Zenyatta, Angela Zeigler/Fareeha Amari/Satya Vaswani, and implied Ana Amari/Wilhelm Reinhardt, Sombra/Hana Song, Jamison Fawkes/Mako Rutledge. Fluff between pairings, mentioned drinking, mentioned character 'death'.
> 
> Time to go public and make sure everything goes according to plan... too bad nothing ever does.
> 
> Come bug me on [tumblr](https://nevaryadlwrites.tumblr.com/) where I post one-shots and babble about stuff!

Overwatch was preparing to go public.

It was official. Winston sent out a mass message to all Overwatch operatives at the ass crack of the morning. It was a long, long message where the big scientist did drone on a bit and it took him a solid fifteen minutes to read through all of it, but Winston gave a tdlr at the bottom for those that he knew would skip over the message.

“ _We are going public hopefully within the month. Operatives’ records are going to be altered to have a more publically acceptable appearance. DO NOT TO ANYTHING STUPID OR ILLEGAL._ ”

“Why a month?” He asked Angela that morning.

“The Petras Act is still in play,” Angela told him, “Winston would like to slowly combat it over this coming month with various good missions and general good PR.”

“How the hell are we going to do that?” He asked skeptically.

“My Gabriel, we do what we do best,” Angela playfully tisked, “We fight the bad guys, we save the innocents and we _don’t_ do what we did last time.”

“If we make another covert-ops, I will destroy Overwatch again,” He deadpanned.

Angela actually laughed.

“How’s Amélie doing?”

Here Angela’s good mood crashed quickly and she went from beaming to tired and looking almost five years older in half a second. She took a moment to message her temples and sigh like the weight of the world was on her shoulders.

“She is breaking through the neural rewiring… She keeps flipping between Widowmaker and Amélie. One moment Widowmaker will be telling how we will never win against the ‘war against Talon’ and the next Amélie will be there, confused and not sure where she is. She speaks… like the past few years haven’t happened… she asked for Gérard, Gabriel.”

“At one point… we’ll need to tell her,” He sighed.

“Perhaps when we have a firmer grasp on Amélie,” Angela sighed.

Of course, with the news that they were going to be on missions again had everyone buzzing. All the training and attentive pseudo missions to test everyone team work skills had been leading up to this for everyone. Everyone was excited for some real action, especially when that action meant more regular missions if they could go public again. There was some talk about who wanted to go on a mission with whom.

D.Va, over the public chat-room, told them how she was excited she was to fight with some of the original fighters of Overwatch. She was particularly excited to fight with Reinhardt and himself. She told that she had been looking forward to fighting with Reinhardt for a long time, since she found out that he was a fan of hers, and that she was eager to fight with a veteran of the Omnic War that could actually be a team player.

“Jackie, you really need to be a team player,” He teased Jack. Jack huffed. “Ana, you too?”

“I’m a team player from a distance, I am a sniper after all,” Ana said, sipping her tea.

McCree and Genji were excited to work with him again.

“Just like the good ol’ days,” McCree grinned.

“I look forward to fighting by your side again, Gabriel,” Genji grinned at him.

He was of course ready to work with Jack again. It would great to go back to those good ol’ days during the Omnic war and during the first few days of Overwatch, where they were young and excited to fight. Of course they were no longer young and definitely not excited to be fighting again, but they were going to be fighting side by side again, ready to help save the world again.

“We’ll know what not to do this time,” Jack reassured him.

“Hopefully,” He smiled back.

There was hope for Overwatch again.

* * *

“Paaaaapi,” Sombra said, drawing his attention from Hana’s stream, “What do you want your retirement to have been?”

“…What?” He asked.

“Well, chances are you’re gonna get revealed at one point,” Sombra said. Her interface was up and she had been tapping away as she did what she did best. It looked like his old files were pulled up at the moment. “I’m sure you don’t want people to find out you were Reaper, sooo, I need a fabrication story to why you ‘faked’ your death. Jack too.”

Huh… he had… not thought about that. Honestly he thought he would continue flying under the radar for the rest of his years. He realized that a person that had been as well known as him years ago would probably end up in the limelight at one point. The thought terrified him honestly. What was he going to say? He had faked his death for what?

“Mine’s easy, I went under to investigate what in the hell happened to Overwatch and Blackwatch,” Jack said.

“What the hell do I say?” He sighed, “I faked my death to get away from all the shit that was coming out over Blackwatch? That just makes me look like a coward and guilty.”

“Shit, didn’t think about it like that,” Sombra said, flicking rapidly around her interface, “Hmm… how can I spin this to make you look… not awful?”

“Go with that he was escaping the influx if information about Blackwatch,” Fareeha suggested, “But spin it right. There was no way that he could get away from the accusations thrown at him. Not to mention we already know that there were sleeper agents everywhere and that there was massive amounts of infighting.”

“Huh, that’s good,” Sombra hummed quietly, “He still looks kinda cowardly though, amigo.”

“I don’t think he’s going to avoid it,” Fareeha sighed, “As much as we would like to save the reputation of mother, Jack and Gabriel… Overwatch and subsequently Blackwatch’s dissolving tattered a great many things, reputations the first to be shredded.”

“Well at least it’s not ‘turned into one of the most horrifying terrorist known to date’,” He noted.

“We just need to make sure that you two can’t be connected at all,” Sombra said, tapping away, “You can’t make death jokes anymore.”

“…goddamn it.”

* * *

Winston returned three days later with a line of missions set up. They gathered in one of the meetings room to discuss who was doing what and what they could and could not do.

“Now… as I said… baby steps to revealing ourselves,” Winston said, shoving his glasses up his nose as he looked down at the papers spread out before him. “That being said, all of these missions will have a priority to remain _hidden_ and with your team at all times. Get there, get the objective done quickly and quietly and get out. Efficiency and secrecy is key as we lead up to going public with Overwatch.”

There were four mission types that Winston had lined up. Taking control of hostile Omnic, Talon, gang and other hostile groups controlled areas. Escorting payloads to help Overwatch’s influence or help groups with their own fights. Another was maintaining control over areas when hostile groups were going to attack, while remaining undercover. Then there were missions that could contain different elements of the previous three.

“They will be Assault, Escort, Hybrid and Control in code,” Winston said as he started pushing files towards everyone.

“Sounds like some kinda inside joke,” McCree said before getting elbowed.

“Now, teams are as following, Assault team you will be going to Hanamura. Hana will be joining you from Korean, Lúcio you will be providing support, Lena you will be providing offense, Bastion you will be defending.”

“You will not be sending me or my brother?” Hanzo asked.

“Because we are trying not to provoke anyone, Hanzo,” Winston said, shoving his glasses again. “Besides, your faces are well known in the area. We’re trying to avoid bad PR, remember?”

“Team Escort will be going to Dorado, Aleksandra you will be providing heavy fire, miss Satya you will be providing support and defense, Sombra you will be providing offence, Mei-Ling you will be providing defense.”

“Girls outing!” Sombra cheered.

“Team Control, we will be going to Ilios. Myself and Roadhog will be providing heavy fire, Master Zenyatta will be providing support, Genji you will be providing offense and Junkrat will be providing defense.”

“Ya hear that Roadie?!” Junkrat giggled.

The big behemoth just sighed deeply, followed closely by Winston.

“We will have two teams for Hybrid, one team will be going to Numbani, Orisa will be joining you to provide heavy fire, Angela will be providing support while Fareeha will be providing offense capabilities with Torbjörn providing defense.”

“Surrounded by lesbians… again,” Torbjörn sighed.

“Hush,” Angela tisked.

“The other hybrid team will be going to… _and I can’t still can’t believe I agreed to this mission_ , Hollywood. Reinhardt will be providing heavy damage, Ana support, McCree, Reyes and Morrison will be providing offense while Hanzo provides defense.”

“Why so many people?” McCree asked.

“The same reason I put so many of the original Overwatch members together,” Winston said as he looked over the file. “It’s an important, long and difficult mission that will require the manpower and skill. Not to mention I want each of you to check the others to make sure none of your faces are revealed.”

Hollywood…would not be too far from his hometown now that he thought about it. He wondered if his folks were around or even still alive.

Ignoring that dark and dismal thought train, he focused instead on the missions. Some Omnic company that produced mostly Omnic centric movies. It seemed that some producer named Hal-Fred Glitchbot had been rather outspoken for Omnic rights and had become a rather prime target for anti-Omnic protestors. By the looks of it, the mission was mostly for good PR since the film industry knew people and could easily sway public opinion with the right editing and acting.

“Now, take time to review these files, you all are shipping out in three days. If you have any questions, do not hesitate to ask.”

“Didja give us undercover identities?” McCree asked, looking through his file.

Huh, he did not see that part. Flipping through the crisp sheets, he saw the file that Jesse had talked about. A digitally edited picture to more resemble a more current picture of him and the fake name ‘John Smith’. He wondered if it was the same fake identity that Jesse had crafted for him when they went to visit his family.

“Yes, it was necessary for some of you to be able to take public transportation,” Winston said, “Some of you will be posing as couples because they look less suspicious.”

“Han, we’re married!” McCree cheered.

Hanzo pinked, looked at his file, turned red and closed his file.

“I wish to terminate my employment with Overwatch,” Hanzo muttered.

“Oh goodness, it looks like we’re married too, Wilhelm,” Ana teased Reinhardt who blushed darkly, “Oh, pardon me, ‘Mr. Adam ‘Sara Malak’.”

He quickly flipped through his file to see if perhaps Winston would be so kind as to give him that extra little something and make his fake persona married to Jack’s. But even after flipping through several papers, he found no indication that that was true. He was about to grumble to himself about how petty it was despite their sour work relationship to do this to him, when Jack nudged him.

“So… who proposed to whom, ‘Mr. Smith’?” Jack muttered.

He glanced over at Jack’s file and saw ‘Jackson Smith’. He swore that he would get Winston a shit ton of peanut butter from Los Angeles as a ‘thank you’.

* * *

Winston said that they did not have to collaborate stories, but half the fun back in the day with undercover-ops was making up the stories of their fake IDS. McCree, Ana, Reinhardt, Jack and himself were having a hoot making shit up and chatting with the other teams. Hanzo was sitting out like the sour asshole that he was though, only paying attention enough to not get left out of the details.

[Entering Channel: Story time]

HANA: Lúcio’s posse EASY  
TRACER: Luv, I really don’t know how to break this to you  
TRACER: But I tick off everyone’s goddamn gaydar within a city block  
HANA: Ah yea... maybe not easy  
LÚCIO: You can always be fans, I’m always bringing fans around with me  
TRACER: I like that!  
TRACER: We can easily hide Bastion as sound equipment  
BASTIN: (•̀ᴗ•́)و ̑̑  
ANGELA: i suppose with Fareeha and i posing as a couple, we could be pretending to bring my relative with us on vacation?  
PHARAH: I wish we could be Satie with us  
TROJN: Whatever  
ANGELA: @Orisa are you there?  
ORISA: I am always here doctor!  
ANGELA: are you and efi okay with this?  
ORISA: Of course, doctor!  
HANA: How the heck is control gonna explain a giant scientist, Roadhog, Junkrat, an Omnic monk and a cyborg ninja?  
ROADIE: Monster fest happening in the city  
JRAT: CUSTOME PTIME  
GENJI: Not much can be done to protect Zenyatta’s identity  
ZEN: I will be alright, my dear, no need to worry  
HANA: CYBER GAAAAYYYY  
GENJI: HANA  
ZEN: No, it is alright, worry not Genji~  
GENJI: How could you say that master?  
ZEN: I have her browser history  
HANA: !!!  
HANA: YOU ARE NOT AN ENLIGHTENED MONK YOU ARE A EVIL DEMON IN A TIN SUIT  
ZEN: Pass into the Iris, Hana Song

[SOMBRA has changed the Channel name to Channel: Master Sassyatta]

SOMBRA: :3c  
ZEN: Thank you, Sombra  
ZARYA: Should we form our story?  
SOMBRA: Easy, vacationing lesbians out for drinks, partying and generally having fun  
MEI: I’m not really for partying but I like it  
ZARYA: I like drinking!  
MEI: Vodka?  
ZARYA: No, it’s disgusting. I like wine and rum.  
MEI: Ooh, same  
SOMBRA: I’ll smuggle the wine  
GABE: **Sombra.**  
SOMBRA: Fine, I’ll buy it legally when we get there >(  
HANA: Alright Hollywood, what are you guys doing???  
ANA: School reunion, of course  
ANA: Adam and myself will be meeting our old schoolmates, Jackson, John, Matt and Paul to have a small gathering in Hollywood for adventure and fun  
GABE: Matt and Paul?  
MCCREE: no one will suspect a thang ;)  
HANZO: I do not look like a ‘Paul’.  
MCCREE: aahhh don’t be like that honeybee  
GABE: There are some GLARING faults with this idea, Ana  
GABE: All of our ages would mean that some of us are either geniuses or were held back for a disturbing amount of years  
ANA: … oh right…  
REIN: How about a group outing? =D  
TROJN: I’m seriously going to bite the kneecaps of who ever taught you to emote  
ANA: A group outing with four old friends, and Gabriel’s adopted son and his husband  
GABE: Works for me  
JACK: Sure  
REIN: I am excited for this!  
MCCREE: works fer me, hun?  
HANZO: It shall… work.

[SOMBRA has changed HANZO’s username to SALTZO]

[SALTZO has changed their username to HANZO]

[HANZO has banned SOMBRA]

HANZO: No.

[SOMBRA has unbanned SOMBRA]

HANZO: HOW THE FUCK EVEN?  
SOMBRA: :3c  
GENJI: SALTZO I’M CRYING  
HANA: I SCREENCAPPED IT I HAVE IT FOREVER

[HANZO has banned GENJI and HANA]

[SOMBRA has unbanned GENJI and HANA]

HANZO: …  
HANZO: …  
HANZO: 龍が我が敵を喰らう！  
HANA: DUCK!

The room rattled and he heard the distant roar of Hanzo’s spectral dragons. He tried to ping Sombra to see if she actually ducked in time, thankfully Sombra pinged him after a moment, saying that the rec room was worse for wear but she did indeed ducked in time.

[SOMBRA has changed the Channel name from Master Sassyatta to Salty Left Tit]

HANZO: WOMAN WE FIGHT  
SOMBRA: BRING IT

* * *

He honestly never thought that he would get on a plane again after meeting Jesse’s family. Then again, he also thought he would have been dead at this point too, but that was besides the point. He never thought he would willingly get on a plane again to go on a mission to help people again, that was for damned sure.

But there he was, sitting next to the window seat with Jack at his side and a dour Hanzo sitting next to Jack. McCree was crammed between the side of the plane and Reinhardt and Ana on the aisle end in the row in front of them. Reinhardt was supposed to sit on the end seat, but with how broad his shoulder was, he had been shuffled out of his seat so that people could pass.

“At least it’s because most of your shoulder and beefy arm was hanging out, ‘Adam’,” He laughed after the seats has been shuffled.

“Now I’m bein’ crushed by it,” McCree groaned, slating his body to avoid the shoulder almost hanging over his head.

“At least it’s not a mad dash like last time, that red eye to Michigan wasn’t exactly a nice ride,” He said, giving McCree’s seat a playfully nudge with his foot.

“You were asleep most of the time!”

“Hush, Matt,” He said, kicking Jesse’s seat.

“Be nice, John,” Jack chastised.

“Yes, _husband,_ ” He smirked, knowing Jack could not see it.

Jack rolled his eyes, probably hearing the smirk, before picking up his hand and managing to find his ring finger and kiss the wardrobe ring on his hand. One part of the disguise, all of them had one because they posing as couples. He figured if he ever popped the question for Jack or vise-versa, he would never go with a simple gold band. Instead he would go for a heavy metal that would be difficult to bend or break, like titanium.

“What’s the first thing we should do after touchdown?” Ana asked.

“Check out the hotel, of course,” McCree said, “Gotta know if where ya lay yer head is nice er not.”

“Should probably also be nosey and check out the places we’ll be partying at too,” Ana said, “Make sure that they’re up to par.”

“Also make sure Winston is okay back home, would have to have the little guy worry,” McCree grinned.

“ _I heard that,_ ” Winston grumbled over the listening device each of them had on their person.

“Would hate for him to get into the peanut butter,” Ana teased.

“ _Why did I stick you all together?_ ”

He bit back chuckles.

* * *

A boring plane ride later and they got off in the late evening at the airport. McCree got their rental car, picking up a sleek van much to Ana’s cringe.

“You try fittin’ ‘ur big friend in anythin’ smaller,” McCree said after she had complained about the mom-mobile. She insisted on shotgun though, so that she could control the music.

“What garbage are you making us listen too?” Jack complained as he helped him into the car and then into his seat. It seemed playing the ‘blind’ man was grating on his nerves.

“Rock, you old man,” Ana retorted as she turned it up.

“We’re almost the same age, _Sara_ ,” Jack snapped.

“And yet you’re the one who probably wants to listen to ‘good ol’ music’ that’s probably more outdated then we are,” Ana said, smiling when Jack glared daggers at the back of her head.

“I’m choosin’!” McCree said, quickly leaning forward and flipping the station to country music.

Everyone collectively groaned before he kicked McCree out of the driver’s seat, letting the station as he drove them to the hotel. McCree sang along with each song, his southern twang and drawl slotting along with each word perfectly. Reinhardt joined in too after a bit, his German accent jostling each word instead but the two seemed to have fun as they sang, so no one really had the heart to tell them to stop.

When they got to the hotel, the two kept singing, even well after they had signed in and made it up to their rooms to check for bugs and shit. He laughed as Jack sighed and finally put his visor back on as they heard the two carry on in their rooms across the hallway.

“Come on, you missed this,” He smiled.

“ _Suuurre,_ ” Jack groaned, tuning his visor to the right setting before starting to sweep his part of the room.

“I know I missed this,” He said back as he checked his side of the room for all the usual places that bugs and cameras could be. “Missed being on missions that are meant to help people, missed working with you without that bullshit hanging over us…”

“…I missed you too, Gabe,” Jack said quietly.

He felt his cheeks pink a bit but kept sweeping the room. Thankfully with Jack’s visor they made quick work of the sweep and then unpacked what needed to be. He _was_ going to pull Jack into their single bed and kiss the hell out of his boyfriend, when McCree almost kicked in the door with Reinhardt on his heels still singing country songs.

“Come on, we’re here to party, so let’s party!” Reinhardt yelled.

“Let’s **not** repeat Mardi Gras,” Jack said as he took off his visor and took up the fake cane again.

“Ah, yer no fun,” McCree whined as they locked their door. Ana took Reinhardt’s arm and McCree dragged Hanzo to his side though the archer went willingly. He slipped his arm around Jack’s waist and walked along with him. The cane got leaned against Jack’s shoulder and he found Jack’s arm around his own waist.

“Don’t lead me astray,” Jack said.

“Just to a good time.”

* * *

They played the part of tourists and checked out the locations that they would be working with. The first was a warehouse that the producer parked his indestructible car. On the day of the mission, when the producer would be doing a public speech for Omnic rights, they would wait for him to show up after giving said speech and get in the thing while fighting off attackers. Then they would lead him to his trailer where his security force would take over.

Hanzo climbed up the side of the warehouse and checked out the car before rejoining them a distance away, pretending to be taking a break from walking around.

“Well fortified,” Hanzo reported, “Should serve to protect him while we focus on enemy forces.”

“Perfect,” Ana smiled, dragging Reinhardt down to her level to get a quick selfie with him, playing the part well.

“Git a look at where we’ll be movin’ through?” McCree asked, fiddling with a camera.

“A bit, there was security though, it looks like we will be traveling through the set areas to limit possible civilian and news involvement…. There was a old western setup…”

“Ha!” McCree wheezed, “Course you’d notice that.”

“It was tacky,” Hanzo deadpanned, “Much like another old western setup I know.”

McCree actually looked offended by that, which only made the rest of them laugh that much harder, but eventually they moved on, ready to head back and prepare for the fight the day after the next. They chatted in code about how they would get out there fully geared, especially since Reinhardt wore a full on suit of armor, Hanzo liked to wear that _Gi_ of his and Ana, Jack and himself could not exactly carry around their big ass weaponry.

“We might need ta sneak in,” McCree said.

“Like some of us could be stealthy,” Hanzo snorted.

“Ya ever hear me without spurs, honey bee?” McCree grinned back.

“He’s a goddamn cat without all of his jingly bit,” He chuckled.

“One too many times almost getting’ goddamn stab by Gérard,” McCree groaned, “Decided that the cowboy aesthetic needed some noise maker.”

They were walking downtown, enjoying the evening lights before settling down for the night. As they passed he chanced to see a street sign and… he remembered it.

Years and years ago, it was a just a street that was a few streets away from where his folks lived, the home that he had grown up in. He wondered…

“Hey, go on without me,” He said, “I’m going to do some lone wolf recon for a bit and then I’ll head back.”

“Gabe?” Jack asked.

“See something wrong?” Ana asked, face creased with worry.

“No, just really I just want to walk for a bit, it’s the old neighborhood,” He said, “I’ll have my comm device on me at all times.”

“…okay, but pull your hood up and keep your head down,” Ana said, fussing like a mother hen over him as she yanked his hood up and then drew the strings tight to cover part of his face.

“Gabe?” Jack pressed.

“I’ll be fine, Jackie, I just got my life back, I’m not keen on losing it so soon,” He smiled before kissing Jack’s forehead. “An hour at most, I promise, else you can track me down and drag me kicking and screaming back.”

“No take backs, we’ll do just that,” McCree chuckled, “How’s about we find a place to get a couple drinks, y’all?”

The group moved on, Jack lingering before he was pulled along. With them on the move, he turned his attention to the street and then followed ancient muscle memory that pulled his feet back home.

* * *

He was surprised to find a lot of the old houses that he sort of remembered still there. The same vague shapes but new coats of paints, new lawn decorations, different cars, some had new trees and other were missing trees with the stumps the only evidence that they were ever there. One or two of the houses were gone, either empty lots all that was left and one house still had the ancient burned out corpse left, a dark and abysmal pit left of the charred foundation.

With it getting dark out, not many people were out. He hardly recognized any of them, a few that the years had not been kind too and so aged that it took a moment to remember their faces and a few that were just new. He figured that people would move and such, it had been what, perhaps decades since he had been back home? Some part of his mind was still mildly heartbroken that there were so many different faces or faces that looked like they had not had good lives.

When he finally found his folks’ house, he was surprised that it seemed so… unchanged.

The same pastel pink paint that his father had always painted the house in looked fuzzy and almost mystical in the rich warm lights of the setting sun. That giant old oak tree was still in the front law, the old swing still hanging from the sturdiest and thick branch though it looked like someone had changed out the ropes at one point. His mother’s cute little compact car, though a hell of a lot more beat up, sat in the driveway, various stickers from her athletic feats decorating the bummer and back window. Next to it was an eco car and devoid of any decoration, so much like his father’s taste. There was also a beat up mini-van, a patchwork truck and two motorcycles that he did not recognize in the driveway, then another van sitting on the road in front of the house.

The windows, most of them dark, had the curtains draw, though he saw the lights were on in the living room and kitchen and he saw shadowed shapes dancing against the fabric. Distantly he heard music and he wondered if perhaps his parents had people over. Would make sense, his mother’s house had been the meeting area for the entirety of their family since he was young, and it had been the meeting spot before he had been born according to family stories. Though he had no idea why people would meet in the middle of the week for no apparent reason, maybe a birthday he no longer remembered.

Satisfied enough, he was about to turn when he felt something hit his back.

“ _Shit, sorry!_ ” Someone hissed in Spanish behind him.

“ _No problem,_ ” He said right back, turning to walk away.

A _very_ strong hand suddenly grabbed his shoulder and spun him around. Vice grip like hands squeezed his shoulders.

“Gabriel Reyes?”

* * *

[Overwatch Channel: All according to plan]

[Sub Channel: Team Silver Screen]

REIN: I hope he is okay D=  
ANA: He’ll be fine, my dear  
MCCREE: yer awfully calm bout him walkin away, amari  
ANA: I have an inkling where he went  
HANZO: Care to share?  
ANA: I will only share with… Jack  
JACK: Why me  
ANA: Because it seems… right, that if I tell anyone and anyone goes and does something about it, that it be you  
REIN: Are you plotting? >_>  
ANA: Yes, fwhahahahahahaha  
JACK: Im worried, tell me where he is

[PM from ANA to JACK: location.jpg]

[PM from ANA to JACK: Good luck!]

[PM from JACK to ANA: You are plotting something]

[PM from ANA to JACK: Me? Plotting? More likely then you’d think, now move on, do tell us how it went when you get back?]

With a street address, Jack grabbed his visor and his 76 jacket, pulling on the latter and managing to find his way to the lobby and then outside. Once he was sure he was mostly out of eyeshot, he put on his visor and quickly started running. His visor immediately pulled up a GPS map and started leading him there without putting him in direct view of anyone. Thankfully his own training sneaking into highly guarded military institutions helped him navigate Los Angeles’ streets until he found where the address had taken him.

Some house, painted pink and looking like it had a number of people there.

[Overwatch Channel: All according to plan]

[Sub channel: Team Silver Screen]

[PM from JACK to ANA: Uh Ana]

[PM from ANA to JACK: Knock on the front door]

[PM from JACK to ANA: What the hell]

[PM from ANA to JACK: Also make sure you’re presentable, they will fuss over you]

[PM from JACK to ANA: **ANA** ]

[PM from ANA to JACK: I’d be quick before Gabe manages to escape]

Groaning and muttering something unsavory about plotting old women before he hesitantly stepped out from the house’s side yard and approached the front porch. After a moment, he hesitantly took off his visor and mask and tucked them into his pocket. Looking… well about as presentable as he was going too, he knocked on the front door, once, twice and just before his knuckles could meet wood for the third time, the door opened.

“Kinda late to be knocking on doors, friend,” Someone with a masculine voice said as they stood there.

He was about to apologize and go strangle Ana when suddenly he heard a familiar sound filtered in from behind the blurry shape.

“Jackie?”

“You know this guy, Gabi?”

“Uh yeah… dad that’s… that’s Jack Morrison,” Gabriel said.

“Huh, I’m beginning to think that death is just a fake idea,” Gabriel’s dad said with light humor before the shape moved and he saw more of the light behind him. “Well, you might as well come in and get out of the cold, you can tell us how you managed to escape death like Gabi did.”

As he slipped his visor in and stepped inside, he was first greeted with the sheepish grin on Gabriel’s face. With the visor on his face, he could not exactly glare at Gabe, but he punched him regardless.

“Way to keep low, _Gabi_ ,” He said with no bite.

“Shut up, I accidently bumped into my dad,” Gabriel groaned as they stepped further into the house, “Turns out they _were_ mourning.”

“Mourning what?”

“Jackie… it’s the anniversary of our death today,” Gabriel sighed, “About… six? Seven years ago? The Swiss base got blown up and the world declared us dead.”

“Good thing it didn’t really stick,” Gabriel’s dad said behind them but when he looked over his shoulder, the man looked relieved and happy.

* * *

[Overwatch Channel: SOMBRA NO]

[Sub Channel: Team Silver Screen]

ANA: So, how’d it go?  
GABE: We’re mourning our death Ana, this is a troubling time for us  
JACK: A drink for the dead  
ANA: Neither of you are dead though! XD  
REIN: Don’t drink! We were already planning on drinking! D=  
GABE: There will be time to drink later, Reinhardt  
JACK: Yeah I think the tequila is gonna get us  
JACK: Especially Gabe since he drinks it without salt or lime  
GABE: IT PUTS SOME HAIR ON YOUR CHEST THIS WAY  
JACK: Or gives you five alarm heartburn  
GABE: Shit, mom saw the devices, run Jackie  
ANA: Remember, eight am sharp boys!  
MCCREE: shit, did I miss gabe and jack?  
ANA: Sorry but yeah  
MCCREE: what the hell happened?  
ANA: Gabe found his parents house and his parents found him and then Jack made it over there and now they have him too  
MCCREE: holy shit  
HANZO: Those two better be here for the mission.  
MCCREE: come on hun, ya visited my folks and had a hoot and a holler, let the two boys have fun  
HANZO: Right, remind me while letting two world known men, that are supposed to be dead and both were under heavy political fire when they ‘died’, alone in civilian area is a non worrying idea?  
MCCREE: …  
ANA: …  
REIN: … >>;;  
ANA: W-we may need to extract  
REIN: BRING YOUR SLEEP DARTS ANA  
ANA: WE’LL BE BACK BOYS PLEASE STAY AND BEHAVE  
MCCREE: lmao  
HANZO: This mission is a disaster and we have not even started.


	24. Recall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: The usual ships, mentioned alcoholism/alcohol abuse
> 
> Glitz, glamour, destroyed movie props and good PR, reconciling with family and rebuilding a once destroyed life one brick at a time. Things are going well.

“ _Ma!_ ” He hissed.

God bless her, his mother continued to ignore him as she railed Jack with question after question. How he had been eating since they last saw each other, if he was taking care of himself, what he did, if he was taking care of his body and pretty much anything she could think of to continue ignoring him. She was doing it on purpose, he knew that much and the knowing looks his dad kept throwing him said that it was pretty damned obvious to everyone in the room, and considering the hell he had put her through these last couple of years he figured he deserved it.

He wished she would at least not pester Jack to teach him a lesson.

“So… has my boy finally pulled his head out of his ass long enough to ask _the_ question?”

He had taken a sip of his thing of drink and almost spat it back out when he heard that. The burn made his eyes water and his dad smacked the back of his torso to help it pass. Jack, wearing his visor so that he could see everyone but sans the lower half of the mask to not be rude, actually pinked up a bit. Jack ignored the question to take a swing of his own drink.

“So, no,” His mom said, clearly disappointed. She looked at her nails, dirty from the garden and probably from one of her many sports, before giving his dad a kick underneath the table hard enough to shake it.

“Are you as disappointed as me?” She asked.

“Well…I’m still in the ‘oh god my son is still alive’ phase, ask me in a few days,” His dad said, smirking when his mom frowned at him.

“I knew that Gabi wasn’t going to give me grandkids unless he dated a willing trans boy or adopted, but I would have thought that almost reaching sixty that he would be married at the very least,” His mom sighed, again acting like he was not there still. “It’s hard to be glad when he’s alive when he’s this old and then I can’t help but wonder what in the hell he’s been doing with his life.”

“Mom, it’s… complicated,” He sighed, not wanting to go into how he was a terrifying sub-human terrorist until about a month ago. He was sure that his family would actually bury him this time around if he tried to tell them anything about being ‘Reaper’.

“Hey Gabi, isn’t that the jacket I gave you years ago?” One of his cousins asked.

“... _noooo_ …” He muttered.

“You told me you loved that jacket, _el burro!_ ”

“I loved it… on Jackie,” He groaned, burying his face in his hands.

“…you’re so goddamn gay sometimes, cuz,” His cousin laughed at him.

“Gay and lonely, just like his Uncle Montego,” His mother sighed.

“Jaaccckkieee,” He whined to Jack.

Jack was too busying trying to hide his smirk and quiet chuckles. He would have kicked him underneath the table but his mother kicked in his shin and she always did have deadly aim, regardless if she was on her way to her eighties. Sports kept her fit and her angry kept her aim true and he found himself clutching his knee and his eyes watering. She scowled and Jack and his dad finally broke out into laughter.

“I came back from the dead for this,” He groaned.

Jack made a quick motion and he realized he was quickly stepping into ‘Reaper’ territory.

“And what did you come out of ‘the dead’ for? What are you doing these days, Gabi?” His mother asked, finally acknowledging him.

“Umm… back with military work,” He said attentively.

“…If you’re back with Overwatch I will find my hardest goddamn flip-flop and beat you raw, boy,” His mother growled.

“Well… nothing official… because that would be illegal,” He tried.

He pushed away from the table in time to avoid another kick aimed at his shin, which only prompted laughter. His mother quickly ducked down and yanked off one of her grimy flip-flops and quickly jumped up and he took off running, trying to get away from her wraith.

“Jack!” He yelped.

“This is all you, _Gabi_ ,” Jack laughed. 

When he paused behind Jack’s chair to ask how he could possibly be with a guy like him, his mother’s flip-flop connected with the back of his head with a soft ‘pap’. When he turned to his mother to wonder why his ass was not getting a beating, she was silently shaking and fat tears were rolling down her wrinkled cheeks.

How could he not just hug her and reassure her that he was not going to leave her again or make her suffer like she did when they had been forced to go to an empty casket funeral. He promised to keep more in touch then he had when he was in Blackwatch. He promised that he was not dying anytime soon and eventually he would get married and she was invited.

He promised to do better.

* * *

His folks insisted on feeding him and Jack and then keeping them the night, even if they needed to run early in the morning for more recon and mission prep. His family smothered the two of them in questions and affectionate ribbing, pestering them with any many questions as they could before they crossed territory into ‘oh is that classified?’ They liked playing that game when he came home during the SEP, early Overwatch and the few times that he came home during Blackwatch. It was a way to make a joke out of the distance between them because of government secrecy so it did not feel like he was a hundred miles away when he was really right there. 

When they asked if they could say if he was alive yet to anyone outside immediate family, he encouraged them not to say anything.

“There was a lot of shit surrounding our deaths,” He told them, “It would probably be best to wait for the best time.”

“And what would that be?” His dad asked.

“Hopefully after that totally not illegal government program I’m now working with goes public,” He said, scratching at the back of his neck.

When things finally calmed down and people started trickling out or settling down to stay the night, his mother pulled out the couch into the box-spring in the living room and threw a few blankets and sheets down for them.

“Your cousin Elizabeth and Annie are literally in the room next door, so don’t do what your brother did when he had his girlfriend stay over,” His mother scolded him.

“Trust me, I remember, you had him scrubbing this house down for weeks,” He chuckled.

“And I’ll make you too, don’t think because you work for some secret, illegal government program doesn’t mean I won’t drag your ass home to scrub my goddamn floors,” His mother smirked, “So get some sleep and not some white boy ass got it?”

“Ma!” He laughed.

When he did finally settle down, he had Jack and him down to their boxers because they had no sleeping clothes and curled up underneath some softly worn blankets and a pulling couch bed creaking with each movement. He nuzzled into the back of Jack’s neck as he curled up around him, enjoying the comfort even if the cushion they were on was a bit flat and there was definitely a spring pressing up against his calf.

“What do you think?” He asked softly, mindful of his young cousins still awake in the other room. He could hear them giggling as they watched something.

“Just like I remember them,” Jack said back just as quietly.

“Oh yeah, I brought you home one time, didn’t I?” He chuckled against the back of Jack’s neck.

“Nah, you dragged me to that vacation house they were renting that one time when you went home for vacation,” Jack said, “That was… early SEP if I remember right?”

“Ah yeah, we had gotten over the worst of the shots and they wanted us to recover some so I went home… you said you’d never been to the ocean before and your folks were busy…”

The first few weeks of the SEP were brutal. They had puked blood, vomit and this awful off-yellow stuff for the first few early days and were in agony for every second. When they had finally stopped spewing blood they said that the chemicals needed time to acclimate to the bodies, making it seem like the chemicals were the more valuable of the two and advised them a vacation away from the facility. 

He had immediately wanted to go home and rang up his folks to tell them that he was coming. While Jack puked into the toilet from the chemicals acclimating, he told him how his folks had rented out a little place on the beach and were planning on having some fun in the sun while he was there to visit. Jack had managed between dry heaves that his folks were busy with a combo of harvest, a market visit and a round of teacher conferences on his mother’s end and that he would end up staying off base.

At the time they had been getting close, friends even. Jack had broken him out of his ‘unsociable prickly shell’ and he had honestly made the first few weeks bearable. To hear that his friend was going to be miserable in some shitty hovel close to the base made something in his chest hurt, or some of the chemicals were causing mysterious aches and pains again, and he had invited Jack with him. Delirious with pain and misery, Jack had agreed and he had to call up his folks and say that he was plus one.

“I remember all the shit they said about us dating,” Jack chuckled wriggling closer to him, “And how we said that it would never happen.”

“Oh god, I remember saying how I would never date a farm boy,” He chuckled.

“I’d never date a Goth edge lord,” Jack recited.

“Jokes on us,” He chuckled, “Pretty good punchline though, eh farm boy?”

“The best, you edge lord,” Jack chuckled.

They laid quietly for a long time, listening to the gentle sounds of everyone in the house. They managed to find some comfortable position together, perfectly slotted together and warming up underneath the well loved and soft blankets, listening to the gentle sounds around them.

“I was kind of hoping to bank that favor at the hotel tonight to be honest…” Jack muttered.

“What favor… oh… you pervert,” He chuckled, nudging Jack.

“Shut up, you’re the one that offered,” Jack laughed.

“Boys!” His mother yelled.

They quieted down but silently chuckled as they snuggled against one another.

* * *

[Overwatch Channel: Lúcio’s surprise animal magnetism]

[Sub Channel: Team silver screen]

ANA: Gaaaabbbbeeee, @Gabe, @Gabe, @GABE @GAAAAABBBEEEE  
GABE: Wtf Ana it’s 3am  
REIN: We got lost!  
GABE: … that noise outside better not have been Reinhardt stepping in my ma’s garden  
GABE: She will murder him  
GABE: And then me  
REIN: No, not at all =D  
ANA: You okay?  
GABE: Perfectly fine, did you really hunt us down?  
ANA: Yes, because Salty Left Tit made a good point about you two being out in the civilian world especially since we’re on a mission  
GABE: We’re fine, Ana  
GABE: erdftgyh  
ANA: ???  
REIN: Uh, Gabe?  
GABE: Were fine you two, let us sleep  
ANA: ?? Is that you Jack  
GABE: Yes now let us sleep  
ANA: How’d the family go?  
GABE: Fine  
REIN: That’s good! =D  
GABE: I met them before, I think theyre happy were dating  
GABE: They want one of us to propose though  
ANA: ABOUT DAMNED TIME  
REIN: YEAH  
GABE: what  
ANA: Are you saying you don’t?  
GABE: Definitely do dont pull that shit ana  
GABE: Just waiting for things to calm down and the right words  
ANA: Time to spam Jack with awful romance proposals, got it  
ANA: Look forward to when you open your comm device again~  
REIN: I’ll tell the others! =D  
GABE: Fuck

* * *

In the morning, they were awoken by his age defying mother who had already gotten up and gone on a morning run and then started cooking breakfast. She woke up the house when she kicked in the door, almost yelling how she had such a great run and she made great time and it was a shame that no one was up to join her. When that failed to rouse most everyone, she then loudly declared that anyone that was not up was not getting fed.

“You defy all known laws of nature, ma,” He groaned into Jack’s shoulderblades when she leaned over the couch and pressed a cold glass of something against the back of his neck. “Noooooo, don’t do this to me.”

“Then get that ancient ass outta bed, I’m feeding you before you leave,” His mom snarked, “I’d hurry too before all the food gets eaten up, your brother still eats like a starved puppy.”

He muttered and groaned as the glass got taken away before turning to nuzzling into Jack’s neck, hoping second degree facial hair burn would wake him up because that was all the energy he had in him to do.

“Come on, Jackie,” He muttered, nuzzling and nudging hard against the back of his neck.

It took a lot of coaxing to get Jack out of bed and for them to eventually get dressed. Jack tried to put on his visor so he could see, but one of his brother’s kids snatched it and ran around trying to get it to lock onto her face.

“He needs that to see!” He laughed. Jack, squinting like it would help at all, tried to trail after the laughing ten year old as she avoided his grasp. He honestly looked like an old man, squinting and sort of hunched over as he blindly grabbed after the giggling kid. He hid his giggles behind his hand until Jack threatened to leave by himself, so he snatched the visor away and gave it to his boyfriend.

“Two military men, bested by a ten year old,” His dad laughed.

“She’s got the making of a fine soldier,” Jack muttered sarcastically as he slipped his visor on. When it lit up as the UI fired up he finally stopped making the funny face that he had been making, drawing laughter out of his dad and brother.

“Alright, food’s up my goofy army, let’s feed Gabi and Jack before sending the two old farts out into battle,” His mom called.

“Ma, you’re almost eighty,” He shot back.

“And I could kick your ass without breaking a sweat, not get out here.”

* * *

After an hour they finally joined the others for recon, finding the movie set town that Hanzo had glanced over the night before.

“Looking a bit green around the gills, Wilhelm,” He mentioned as they joined their group hiding behind one of the Western stylized houses. Reinhardt was woozy on his feet and his eyes were bloodshot, even the blind one and kept rubbing his temples like he had a headache.

“There was some drinkin’ wit out ya,” Jesse laughed, “He couldn’t take Ana’s Irish coffee.”

“Shit you didn’t tell him how much alcohol she puts in those?” He laughed as Ana poked her head out from the back window and motioned them up. Reinhardt groggily reached up and grabbed the bottom of the window and pulled himself up.

“Didn’t think it would kick him on his ass like it did,” Jesse snickered as he took Reinhardt’s offered hand and pulled him up.

“Okay, Rein, if Ana offers you a vanilla milkshake with the works? Don’t take it. You will not be sober for the next three days,” He said when Jesse reached down to help him up. Reinhardt only groaned as he leaned down to help Jack up next.

They stayed in the upper floor of the fake house for a moment, taking notes about weak and strong points, about chokeholds and places that could cut off advancing enemies. Hanzo and Ana took notes about places that would be good for them to take position, Reinhardt managed to take a few notes of places that he could set up his barrier and protect the attackers. Jesse, Jack and himself took notes about places that they could set up and really let loose some damage and places that they could duck and pop from behind when they needed some defense.

They did this throughout the fake little town, along the route that the job would take them. They came up with several strategies for several locations and checked more than dozen locations for possible traps, bugs and other enemy worries. In the end they ended up spending most of the day getting ready for the next day and when they deemed themselves as ready as they were going to be, it was getting dark.

“Alright, I don’t know about the rest of you, but I could use a bite to eat,” Ana yawned, “How about some pizza or burgers?”

“Sounds good!” Jesse quickly said. He had been complaining that he was hungry for the past two hours and was eager to finally put something into his growling stomach.

“Ugh,” Hanzo groaned.

“We’ll find a rabbit food stall for you,” Ana deadpanned, getting a rather dark trademark Hanzo glare in turn.

“Sounds good,” He affirmed when his comm device went off. Prying it out of his pocket he was shocked to see that it was Angela. He followed after the others as he answered it.

“Hey Angie, what’s up?”

The sound that greeted him was distant screaming and crying and the sound of Angeal trying to sooth someone. He had to wait several minutes before he heard Angela’s voice. She sounded tired and frazzled.

“Gabriel, I need your help,” Angela almost begged.

“What’s wrong?” He asked.

Hearing him say that, everyone turned back towards him and immediately looked worried and he tried to wave them off but they kept standing there waiting.

“I need you to talk to Amélie, she needs a familiar voice,” She begged.

“We… we didn’t talk that much I don’t know…” He tried only for the sobbing to suddenly get closer on the other end. The pathetic sobbing voice sounded nothing like Widowmaker and for a moment he was struck that he was actually talking to Amélie again and not the heartless sniper that he had worked with for years.

“Gaabbbbrrriieeeelll,” Amélie sobbed.

“I… uh… I’m here, Amélie,” He said quietly.

Ana and Reinhardt nearly lurched towards the comm device but he quickly turned around and listened to Amélie on the other end. He could tell that everyone was standing there, waiting for him to say something or explain what was going on, something that he would do when he did not have a mentally frazzled woman on the other end.

“Gabriel, I can’t… I don’t remember…” Amélie sobbed, “What happened to me? Why am I purple? Where is everyone?”

“I… Angela can answer all of these for you,” He said quietly.

“I don’t know anyone here, there was a little rat man and a big pig man and… and this big pinked hair woman and… Gaaabbbeee!” Amélie managed between heartbreaking wails. He heard Angela quietly say something to Amélie and her crying quieted down to sniffles. Something that sounded very distantly like ‘mon cher ami’ and Angela replaced her.

“I’m sorry, I was hesitant to leave her without someone even distantly familiar,” Angela sighed, “She seems to remember you from your time with Talon, she even asked for you. I don’t think she remembers exactly though, but she seems to at least remember that you’re dependable. I managed to find someone that she definitely remembers right now.”

“I’m guessing that’s Lena talking to her now?” He asked.

“Yes… she seems calmer now so I suppose I should finally get around to checking her vitals,” Angela sighed.

“Don’t work yourself to death doctor, I don’t think your rez works on yourself,” He tried to joke.

“Don’t remind me,” Angela said dryly before cutting the connection.

He told the others about what was going on. Of course those that knew Amélie were conflicted, happy that she was slowly working through her brainwashing but also sad that she would soon learn what she had done for all those years that she had been Widowmaker. For a moment they stood silently and then they trailed off to find a place to get dinner.

* * *

The next morning they were on the payload as it moved out.

Ana and Hanzo took high positions so they could shoot, Reinhardt took the forward position and they took up positions behind his shield. They walked by the VIPs car as it started to roll on through the fake town. Sometimes as they rolled on by they saw Ana and Hanzo moving positions to follow, Ana jumping from ledge to ledge and Hanzo climbing easily with those weird metal feet of his.

“Everythin’ okay up there you two?” McCree called out over the comms.

“ _Okay for now, I don’t see any activity,_ ” Ana reported.

“ _I see nothing so far, I will launch a sonic arrow here in a moment just to make sure,_ ” Hanzo reported.

“Alright… here’s hopin’ it stays quiet,” McCree muttered.

“And you jinxed it,” Jack muttered.

It was a quiet for awhile as they slowly escorted the director’s car through the prop town. They watched all their sides, watched the sky and listened out for Hanzo when he shot his sonic arrows. It actually looked like it would have been a boring escort mission until they hit the little Midwestern town. When Hanzo launched another sonic arrow, they got alerted that some rather unfriendly looking Omnics were coming at them.

“Show time!”

Reinhardt redrew his shield as Ana and Hanzo started peppering them with bullets and arrows. Behind the shield they waited until the Omnics came out in the open before opening fire upon them. Bullets and arrows ripped through the unrelenting metal bodies as they tried to swarm the car.

“Careful out there! I paid a lot of money for those backgrounds!”

Ignoring the asshole, they kept putting holes and bullets in Omnics as they seemed to endlessly come at them. Whoever was trying to kill their VIP sure wanted to make him and his pro Omnic views look bad. Luckily Winston had chosen all of them for this mission, because he was sure that a smaller crew would have been quickly overrun or overwhelmed. Though the sheer numbers that were coming at them threatened to overwhelm _them._ Reinhardt’s shield would not hold forever though.

“Barrier is giving out!” Reinhardt called.

True enough, cracks were beginning to form along the energy field, coming closer and closer to the emitter. Reinhardt’s arm was shaking as the shield grew weaker and weaker with each hit.

“Take cover!”

They ducked behind various parts of the prop town. Out of the way Reinhardt dropped his barier and then charged into the thick of it, laughing the entire way as metal and Omnics were crushed with the force of his armored body and hammer rocketing through.

“I want ta be like that when I’m sixty,” McCree called over the noise, popping out to shot at a few downed Omnics.

“Not even a super soldier,” Jack muttered as he reloaded before popping up to shoot at the Omnics advancing towards the car.

He quickly ducked behind the car and started putting down Omnics that got too close, relying on Jack and Jesse to put down the ways out of the range of his shotguns. Thankfully between Reinhardt scrambling them at the core of their numbers, Ana and Hanzo pick them off safely from above and the three of them shooting them from back a ways only a handful managed to get close to the car. The director still decided to shout at them to be careful it one got too close and he was starting to get tired of the annoying metal prick inside.

“Hammer DOWN!”

“ _Hey, does anyone want to see something cool?_ ” Ana called out.

“What the hell ‘re you plannin’?”

There was the sound of Ana shooting and a rather pained yelped from Reinhardt.

“ _You’re powered up get in there!_ ”

“So that’s what a nano-boost is,” He muttered as Reinhardt went from trying to grab the dart in his metal covered ass to suddenly surging forward with maniacal laughter.

“… _Please never shoot me with one of those,_ ” Hanzo muttered in horror.

“ _Why would I shoot you? What are you going to do? Shoot more arrows? Actually hit something?_ ” Ana taunted.

“… _Let the dragon consume you!_ ”

They got to watch Hanzo’s dragons rip through the air, passing harmlessly through the props and then tear through a huge part of the advancing Omnics. Realizing that Hanzo just gave them room to advance, he smacked the side of the car and the three attackers hanging back advanced forward with the car as they watched Reinhardt rip through Omnics with glee and the two snipers advanced forward.

It strangely felt comfortable and familiar.

* * *

[Overwatch Channel: Torbjörn surrounded by Lesbians… again]

GABE: Mission accomplished, VIP made it to the safe house and all threats eliminated  
GABE: Tinseltown is a wee bit rough around the edges though  
WINSTN: Trust me, I heard from Mr. Glitchbot. He had a number of grievances for damages to his property.  
WINSTN: But he is safe and he thanked the team for that and has agreed to speak in favor of Overwatch during his next appearance.  
WINSTN: The Ilios and Dorado teams have already finished up their missions as well and it looks like Hanamura will be finished soon too, so I should return to my reports.  
WINSTN: Winston out.  
ANA: Hmm, he left before I could ask if he wished for us to report back quickly or not…  
REIN: No more drinking D=  
ANA: You’re no fun  
REIN: You gave me extra hard Irish coffee! >:(  
ANA: You didn’t believe me when I said it would knock you on your tush, dearest~  
REIN: It didn’t harm Jesse!  
ANA: Reinhardt, dearest… Jesse is an alcoholic, his favorite meal is bourbon, hold the ice  
MCCREE: i am both impressed and slightly ashamed of myself that ya know  
REIN:   
GABE: lmao  
GABE: We can go out and have a fun time without drinking, Reinhardt

[ATHENA: Operative Reyes, your mother is requesting that I keep her updated on you status, do you wish for me to share this information?]

GABE: How the fuck…  
JACK: This should be a secure channel  
SOMBRA: *whistles*  
GABE: Of course… uh… if Winston doesn’t mind and you don’t share _too personal_ information I don’t mind

[ATHENA: I will send this request through Winston and then keep Audrianna Reyes informed of you status as ‘Working’, ‘Busy’ or ‘Safe’.]  
[ATHENA: Shall I inform your parents of the same, Operative Morrison?]

JACK: …  
GABE: You ever see someone in a mask blanch? It’s kinda funny and terrifying  
JACK: How  
SOMBRA: *innocently whistling*  
JACK: Fine

[ATHENA: Very well, your mother is happy to hear from you, operative. Let me know when you group is ready for extraction.]

JACK: Wait my mother ‘is’  
JACK: Are you on the line with her

[ATHENA: <3]

JACK: An AI is sassing and taunting me  
GABE: Like back in the Omnic war!  
GABE: You’ve never heard trash talk until a sentient god AI is trying to diss you through one of their many mind controlled metal hand puppets  
ANA: I remember when they got their hands on the Urban Dictionary  
GABE: I still have nightmares  
GENJI: This is an awkward conversation to come back too  
GABE: Hey, how’d the mission go, kiddo?  
GENJI: Good, the monster fest really made it easy on us to hide in plain sight  
GENJI: Master ended up breaking someone’s jaw  
GABE: … I’m sorry he did what?  
GENJI: A man was shouting some awful things about Omnics and then grabbed him  
GENJI: Master calmly asked the man to let him go and cease his awful shouting  
GENJI: The man refused to let go and said that Zen would never raise a hand against him  
GENJI: Master Zenyatta kicked him square in the jaw and told him that ‘I don’t want to fight you doesn’t mean that I cannot or will not if you continue to provoke’  
GENJI: The man was so ashamed that he slunk away into the crowd  
GABE: … nice  
ZEN: I do not take pride in violence. I merely wished for the man to stop harassing people, at that moment myself, and he seemed so smug that I would not fight to protect myself. I merely proved him wrong.  
GABE: Remind me not to give you a reason to kick my ass  
ZEN: I don’t think you will need to worry about that!  
GABE: *sweats* hopefully  
ANA: Gabe, Hanzo found and approved of a noodle stand to eat at, let’s go!  
GABE: Right, we’ll be back eventually!  
GENJI: @REIN @ANA @HANZO @GABE Get McCree to eat a mouthful of wasabi!  
GABE: We can try

* * *

“ _Overwatch back? It seemed like two weeks ago that the infamous fallen from grace organization had surfaced again but this time it actually seems true. A Talon attack at the Ilios Monster Fest was thwarted by former Overwatch members Winston along with a Omnic monk, a cybernetic ninja and two rather infamous Junkers Junkrat and Roadhog. Many reports said how the Talon attack would have killed and injured without Overwatch’s intervention._ ”

“Here Jesse, try this it is good,” Hanzo said, handing Jesse a small little tab with some green stuff on it. Jesse, who kept paying attention to the news, mindlessly stuck it in his mouth and sucked all the green stuff off. He kept watching the news for a moment and then he looked confused. Then he was panting and trying to fan his mouth off as everyone laughed.

“ _Not only that, but there are reports of a duo Talon and violent Omnic attack that was stopped by four mysterious women that some are saying is also a part of Overwatch. The four women saved a small town from being overrun and even kept property damage to a minimum before managing to disappear. Many are wondering if Overwatch is choosing to remain a shadow now with the UN laws still in place against their reformation. Many are also wondering if those laws will be repealed since Omnic and Talon attacks hare continuing across the world with very few able to do anything about them._ ”

Jesse almost grabbed the sake bottle that Hanzo had specially ordered but it was quickly and smartly replaced with Reinhardt’s glass of cold water and then consumed in record time. Jesse’s face was still red and he still panted after polishing it off, going back to fan his mouth off as Hanzo and Ana kept laughing hysterically at his misery.

“ _…This just in, there are reports that a massive Omnic attack aimed at director, actor and writer Hal-Fred Glitchbot was thwarted by, and you are not going to believe this folks, what look like former Overwatch operatives Wilhelm Reinhardt and the enigmatic vigilantes Soldier 76 and Jesse McCree, an man with a bow and… the real kicker here folks, two people that look like the thought dead operatives Ana Amari and former Blackwatch commander Gabriel Reyes?_ ”

He about gagged on his laughter when a good humored server brought Jesse a thing of milk and the man chugged it. Jesse wheezed, hunched over as they ribbed him. Jesse muttered how Hanzo was going to be the death of him if he trusted Hanzo to hand him food like this. Reinhardt expressed the same for Ana and alcoholic drinks. He asked Jack if he would ever do that and Jack dryly muttered how his diet was too boring to trick him into eating anything too extreme. He mentioned that he needed to treat Jack to street corn some time.

“ _Well folks, it looks like the good guys are back from the dead to help us and this station is, for one, happy to see them back. Should Overwatch need the help, we are happy to help them as they helped us and all of our friends and family world wide._ ”

“Okay, now try this, I swear, it is not spicy,” Hanzo snickered, holding up a sizable chunk of pickled ginger.

“Why do I love you?” Jesse muttered.

“I’m sure the exposed left pectoral and ripped left arm have something to do with it,” Ana chuckled, snorting when Jesse ate the ginger and almost folded over in disgust. This time Jesse grabbed the sake bottle and just chugged it.

“That’s my boy,” He laughed as the news moved on to report on the weather.


	25. Before the Rise-(mild mlm smut)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: mlm smut, oral sex, handjob, the usual implied ships
> 
> It's all winding down
> 
> EDIT 8/15/2017: Edited to make Jack transgender

Winston had a meeting with the UN later that week.

They had been doing covert operations for a month, silently combating Talon, rabid Omnics, various gang activities and whatever generally good things they could be doing, a month of doing various things and then having wild shenanigans with his teammates that were slowly starting to feel more like family. One afternoon they would be fighting bad guys and spending the evening eating out with teammates or generally joyfully wasting time doing something goofy.

He slowly started to build up on Jack and his relationship when there was downtime.

He finally took the old boy-scout on an honest date, driving out to the small city a ways a way to this nice little place by the beach. They ate and laughed before taking a long walk on the beach. Jack kissed him and he gave the man a low riding hicky in return.

“At least this one is easy to hide,” Jack had laughed as he pulled up his collar a bit.

“See, I can take constructive criticism,” He had chuckled back, kissing the man sweetly.

They often planned impromptu dates when they were both on base. It became a regular thing for them to be together when they could. With so much time together they got a lot better a communicating with one another, able to be a lot more open with one another. They actually figured out where they were with one another and strove to make both the other and themselves happy.

“I wanna marry you, Gabe,” Jack had said one night as they lay in bed, “I really do.”

“What do you know me too,” He had smiled back, snuggling closer. “But how about we wait until we see what happens with the PETRA acts, just so we know if we can have a nice public wedding with all the family there or have one on the run.”

“Ye of little faith,” Jack had chuckled.

“Optimistically pessimistic,” He had retorted back before kissing him.

It seemed that they were not the only ones patching things up or strengthening relationships.

He often saw the brothers speaking with one another while on base together. There were times that things got loud and hurtful but almost always they figured things out on their own and towards the end of the month he swore he saw the two laughing and joking with one another. Not only that but it seemed that Hanzo stopped hating Zenyatta so much and was less hostile towards Angela. He was still a bit of a dick to the two, but noticeably nicer.

Torbjörn started being nicer to Zenyatta and Bastion, though more towards Bastion, something about it being strange that such a homicidal bot was just useless and to soft for his metallic shell. It did not explain why Bastion, who was wary of making anyone uncomfortable, would choose to wheel their big metal body over to Torbjörn to show him a pretty little flower that Ganymede found for them or grab something that might have gotten away from him. Or why Torbjörn would volunteer to fix something that was broken for Bastion, sometimes put out tiny perfect little twigs for Ganymede for its nest or let Ganymede move to a little, neat and dry little corner of his workshop. With Zenyatta he at least started calling Zenyatta by his name rather than the belittlingly ‘Omnic’ or even worse ‘thing’. He actually had a feeling that it was more Zenyatta being painfully nice and polite and making him look like an uber dick then his crusty heart changing for the better.

Sombra and Hana finally started dating, saving everyone from Sombra’s pining. As it turned out the two made a pretty good couple when Sombra agreed not to bring her hacking skills into Hana’s video games and agreed to keep work out of fun. They were lovable, hard working, meme loving fucks with some serious software savvy and a force to reckon with when they teamed up. Though without cheating it was obvious that Sombra was terrible at most any video game and that was a bit of an embarrassing moment for Sombra to be patronized by Hana.

“Hey, Sombra?” Genji said after she had once again died in her game in what had started as a vain attempt to impress Hana. “You died.”

“Quit hitting yourself, quit hitting yourself!” Sombra snapped back, taking control of Genji’s cybernetic arm and making him slap himself.

Something that surprised everyone was that Satya quit Vishkar. As it turned out, they could not hide forever what they were doing and being away long enough let her see through some of the bull-shit that they had blinded her too. She was sort of listless for a bit before she picked herself up and devoted her time and effort to helping with Overwatch. There was some worry that the strained relationship between her and Lúcio would finally break when she all but admitted that he was right about Vishkar. Thankfully Lúcio was a good person and chose not to rub it, instead offering her music samples that would help with anxiety and overbearing OCD. They even could stand to exchange truly pleasant pleasantries if they passed each other.

Amélie was in and out of therapy but she was slowly putting herself back together. The specialist told them that the extensive neural rewiring would take time to undo, especially with the combination of how they did it and then the trauma afterwards and the trauma that would come with bringing her up to speed. Angela was able to undo part of what slowed down her heart and soon Amélie was back to being her slightly pale normal skin tone and was only slightly blue around the edges. Lena helped while she could, but Amélie needed professionals first.

“Do you think you two will go back to dating?” He asked her after she had visited Amélie.

“I mean… it’d be nice but… time has passed, she needs help first and she’ll be broke up about Gérard for awhile… so I guess if she wants too, Em’s okay with the idea but honestly I just really want my friend back more,” Lena smiled softly.

“That’s a great way of thinking about it,” He smiled back.

When Winston announced that the UN had agreed to the meeting with him discussing the future of the PETRA acts. Winston was hopeful but also wary, optimistically pessimistic. Apparently there were a number of the members on the committee, but a small but meaningful number of members had retired recently that even if the PETRA was kept that they had enough fresh minds to at least sway and start changing their minds.

“This might be one of many attempts to prove we’re good guys again and worth it,” Winston sighed.

“We will do well, Winston,” Angela said, “We’ve worked really hard for this. You’ve worked really hard for this. If anyone can do this, you can and we will help as best we can.”

When Winston was called away they were encouraged to remain on base in case Winston needed to contact them. He was wished well and they eagerly tuned into the news as they waited judgment to come.

It felt like when the base was on lock down all over again only this time there was an air of optimism. People were excited to actually go public again, ready to openly help the world with its woes and be publically known as heroes. The veterans were more than ready to help redeem the name of Overwatch and hopefully do some good again. The air of hope made them all giddy and almost high on the feeling, so that when Winston called and informed that they would all be getting interviewed by the board hardly anyone was fazed.

Then the heavy feeling ripped them out of their hope induced stupor and they realized how it looked with some of their operatives and their shady pasts.

The first came when McCree was called for a video conference. When he came out he looked like a kicked puppy. He told them how the UN had railed him long and hard about his bounty and all the laws that he had broken and all of the things he had wrongly been charged with. Not only that but they had railed him about what he had done under official orders underneath Blackwatch. He had little hope after the meeting.

After that, the air of hope was replaced with anxiety, dread and worry.

There were those that did not need to worry, like Hana, Reinhardt, Torbjörn, Angela, Lena, master Zenyatta, Fareeha and Zarya. There were those that sort of worried because of the grey morality of their previous work or how sketchy their stories sounded or were, like Lúcio, Genji, Mei and Bastion. Those that were outright criminals, declared KIA or formally associated with criminal organizations, like Sombra, Jack, Hanzo, Ana, the Junker boys and himself did nothing but worry, though maybe not the Junkers boys.

Sure, they had no proof that Gabriel Reyes had been the goddamn modern boogeyman for the past half of the decade. But he would still need to explain where he was, what he was doing and what was he going to say? And what if they found out about him being Reaper? He was already a shady asshole before the Fall, but if they found out he pretty much lost his mind and became a literal monster… he did not want to think about it.

He almost had a full-fledged panic attack when Jack, Ana and himself were called in together.

“They’ll want to know what we did while we were supposed to be dead,” Ana said as they walked together.

“What are we supposed to say? We were two vigilantes and a fucking terrorist for five or six years?” He groaned, rubbing his face.

“We’ll see what they want when we get in there,” Jack said, rubbing between his tense shoulder-blades, “We’ve been through our own hells, there’s not much that they can do to us.”

There was a large screen set up in the main meeting room. On the screen were a bunch of familiar faces that he wished he could have forgotten, old and wrinkled and looking down their noses at them with only a few new faces that looked genuinely surprised to see them. A long table and a few chairs had been set up to face the screen and Winston tiredly shoved his glasses up as they took their seats. Winston shuffled some papers before clearing his throat.

“Ana Amari, Jack Morrison and Gabriel Reyes as you requested,” Winston said.

“ _You three are supposed to be dead,_ ” One snide and far too old face sneered.

“Death is something of a joke around here,” Ana said dryly, frowning right back. He was almost surprised that ‘let’s get along with the high ups’ Amari would back sass a higher up, but the look of shock on the wrinkled mass that was a face was worth it.

“ _I think what Mr. Williams meant is, could you please explain how the three of you lived through your supposed deaths?_ ” One of the younger faces asked, “ _If I remember the reports right, Ms. Amari was shot in the head and Mr. Morrison and Mr. Reyes were eviscerated in an explosion._ ”

“The shot,” Ana said, starting them off, “Was stopped because of my cybernetic eye. The tech splintered and I was in critical condition for several weeks as the tech was pulled out piece by piece so nothing would penetrate my brain, but by then I was already falsely declared dead. Not to mention my shooter was a familiar face and I wanted to investigate. There was so much already going wrong with Overwatch and Blackwatch… I thought it would be best if I disappeared.”

“ _I see, Mr. Morrison? Mr. Reyes?_ ”

“The explosion knocked us around a bit, but the super chemicals that the SEP pumped us full of made it only a mild inconvenience,” Jack said stiffly. “I lost my eyesight from the initial blast and suffered a number of third degree burns and lacerations. When I had recovered I had also been falsely declared dead as well.”

“ _Why not come forward then?_ ” A mass of wrinkles snapped unkindly, “ _Why not come forward after the blast?_ ”

He swallowed thickly, trying to think of something to say working his lame tongue and suddenly dry mouth, when Ana gave him a gentle kick. She gave him a look before turning to coldly address the UN board. He remembered that look anywhere, the same cold and hard look she would don right before a kill shot.

“It’s classified,” Ana said plainly. She was scowling so hard that her eye-patch was not sitting right on her face, the crease of her brow upsetting it.

“ _What? You can’t… What were you doing during that time, you three?!_ ” An older face with greasy combed over hair snapped unkindly.

“It’s classified,” Jack said, leaning back in his chair.

“ _This is insubordination, what were you three doing?!_ ”

“Classified,” He growled out, folding his arms over his chest and giving the old bastards his infamous glare.

Three old soldiers, scarred and beaten, downtrodden and scarred, missing a few pieces here and there, glared down the ones that had been a goddamn thorn in their side for so many years. No longer afraid of harming what was not there, they supposed. What honor? What reputation? What patriotism? There was little left that these UN bastards could touch now.

“ _I would like to point out that with all three of them declared dead, none of them work for the army, Overwatch or any militant power,_ ” One of the younger UN members said, “ _And this is unofficial, they don’t have to tell us anything._ ”

Realizing that they were stuck, the meeting was called to an abrupt and bitter end.

* * *

[Overwatch Channel: My thrussy?!]

GABE: …  
ANA: We’re back!  
JACK: …@Hanzo

[HANZO has changed the channel name from Overwatch Channel: My thrussy?! To Overwatch Channel: It’s the final countdown]

HANA: lmao and no one knew it was Hanzo that made the joke

[HANZO has temporarily banned HANA]

ANGELA: how did the meeting go?  
ANA: We pissed them off  
JACK: Ana started it  
GABE: My stomach is currently tangled in my lower intestines, I think we need to flee country  
ANA: Not just yet, let’s wait and see first Gabriel  
GABE: Jack pack your bags, we’re taking this on the road  
GABE: We’ll go underground, I’ll become a baker and you can be my stay at home trophy  
JACK: Stay at home trophy  
GABE: *trophy husband  
JACK: Put a ring on it first babe

[SOMBRA has unbanned HANA]

SOMBRA: ;3c  
HANA: DO I NEED TO BRING BACK THE GAY CHURCH?!  
JACK: Lets not and say we did  
GABE: It’s fine Hana, really  
GABE: I just… I really don’t think that they’re happy with us right now  
ANA: I regret nothing, they need to learn not to do the same as what happened the last time  
ANA: If that means we keep operating under the radar underneath for Overwatch then so be it  
HANA: No mercy Ana  
ANA: I’m old and more bitter then my tea  
REIN: I think you’re very sweet =D  
ANA: You charmer~  
TROJN: Seriously who the fuck taught you to emote?  
REIN: Hana! She taught me when she helped me program my comm device!  
TROJN: …run child…  
HANA: EEEPP!!  
SOMBRA: THAT CRAB CLAW IS MINE IF YOU TRY AND TOUCH HER  
ANGELA: don’t worry yourself gabriel, we will make it through  
TROJN: As a very wise person once said  
TROJN: “This too shall pass. It shall pass like a large kidney stone, but it shall pass.”  
TROJN: stdrcfvbuhjnk  
SOMBRA: STOP HITTING YOURSELF STOP HITTING YOURSELF

* * *

Winston spent almost seven hours talking to the UN, barring anyone from getting close as he carefully navigated the delicate and confusing world of politics and militant powers. Probably for the best, seeing how none of them were particularly bureaucrat suave and perhaps the most charming person there was McCree and he was still a wanted man in most parts from America to the north side of South America.

At this point they could only wait and hope.

“I can get them all fired,” Sombra suggested, “I’ve got dirt on all of them.”

“Let’s not blackmail them after **we’ve** clearly angered them,” Ana said back.

“I can blow up their pretty base!” Junkrat suggested, holding onto a stick of lit dynamite.

“How about we don’t kill them either?” He quickly said, licking two fingers and putting the dynamite out. Junkrat looked highly offended, yanking the dynamite stick close to his chest and looking at the extinguished wick of the stick like it was a wounded pet. “You may not have a problem with explosions, but you forget one killed me and made me a monster.”

“Sorry mate,” Junkrat muttered, tucking the dynamite away.

“How about we wait?” Ana said, “No decisions have been made and even if there were, it would take time for them to happen. Patience is a virtue that we all sorely lack and in a situation where we do not want to repeat the mistakes of the past, it is a necessity.”

“The voice of reason, as always,” He said quietly.

“No one is going anywhere, no one is blackmailing anything and so help me God, Jamison, if you so much as light another bomb I will load you up with enough sleep darts to put you under for a week, do you understand?” Ana snapped, giving them all a hard glare.

“Yes ma’am,” They all said quietly.

“We wait.”

* * *

“I don’t think this is a very good way to pass the time,” Angela chuckled as she tied off another water-balloon filled with water colored by a sparkly bath-bomb. “Oh but this will be so much fun!”

He had several basins filled with various water balloons with tinted water. He was currently filling up a basin with blue tinted balloons and then had ones that he was going to fill with pearl tinted and then a black batch from a galaxy themed bath-bomb. While he was filling up balloons, most everyone that wanted to participate were throwing tarps over things that could not take the paint well or things that would take the paint a little too well.

“Well, I promised that I would show you my special mix and we all need something to take our minds off of what’s going on, sooo…” He said, filling up another balloon before handing it off to be tied by more deft fingers.

“I’m sure that it will be alright, Gabriel,” Angela smiled, “I am feeling hopeful.”

“Hopefully enough for all of us,” He said before handing off another balloon.

It took a long time to finish off all the balloons but when it was, everything that needed to be was covered in tarps and people had changed into swim wear or dingy older white clothing so they could see the color spray.

“Alright!” He called, carefully holding a blue filled balloon, “Rules are simple… don’t be a dick! No face, no eyes, if someone says no that means no, if someone sits out they are out… got it?”

Once he got confirmation, he grinned… and chucked the balloon Jack. Jack looked down at the blue stain forming on his t-shirt before looking up at all of them. For a moment they stood there… then Jack’s visor clicked into place and he grabbed two random water balloons.

“I’ve got you in my sights.”

It delved into sheer chaos then. Water balloons flew left and right, quickly throwing a vivid rainbow of every color all over. People shrieked and yelled as they were hit and clothing was soaked in every color they had available. Someone landed a pink balloon over Angela’s head by mistake, coloring her pale blonde hair with a vivid pink. Someone soaked Mei’s shirt with several shades of blue, McCree’s hat got knocked off with a white one and left his hair soaked in sparkles. Someone hit Hanzo’s tattooed arm with an orange balloon and the offended dragons pulled themselves out of Hanzo’s skin to shake off the colored water.

Genji quickly proved the target to get, dodging around anything thrown at him regardless of aim. It was pondered for a moment if they should even try with his cybernetic body. But when master Zenyatta cooed for Genji to come down from his hiding corner, the Omnic struck him with one of each balloon, masterfully orbiting around him like his orbs. Genji just stood there with a rainbow of color dripping off of him and looking rather betrayed.

After Genji the main target was Lúcio. His leg prosthetics were wrapped up to avoid getting water in them, which made the music coming out of them sound funny, but kept the expensive tech from being spoiled. He had also taken the speakers out of his dreadlocks to avoid a painful shock to the skull. Lúcio jumped, leapt, aimed a bit slowly but with surprising accuracy. He was foiled when Satya made a diversion and then he was pelted with green balloons.

“It’s hiiiiggh noon… draw!”

He was struck center of the chest with a green balloon, Mercy with another pink balloon, Hanzo with a yellow one and Jack with a purple one. McCree stood grinning before they pelted him with round of balloons that left the cowboy positively brilliant with color. While people laughed as Jesse tried to ring out the rainbow out of his serape, he completed Jack’s look with a pink balloon. Jack just nudged him back before bursting another balloon to start working on the rainbow that he needed.

“Bombs away!” Lena called, blinking into existence before peppering the lot of them and then blinking away. He got hit with a red balloon while Jack quickly wiped the blue out of his hair and away from his visor.

“Hey, if you ever want to dye your hair, blue looks good on you,” He laughed.

“And you look good in something other than black,” Jack snarked back, squeezing more of the blue out of his hair.

“How knows, maybe I’d look good in Overwatch blue.”

“FIRE IN THE HOLE!”

They both about jumped out of their skins and were prepared for the worst… only to hear Junkrat giggle as a combo of McCree, Lena and him doused Roadhog in a barrage of balloons, soaking the big man in a coat of different colors until it ran in muddied rivulets down his sides. Roadhog looked at the three offenders for a long moment, or at least the lens of his mask was turned towards them for a long time, before he was picking up a heaping armful of balloons.

“ _I’m going whole hog,_ ” Roadhog grunted out before the three screamed and ran as balloons were thrown with deadly accuracy and force after them.

Onlookers laughed as the three were pelted with balloons, leaving trails of vibrant color after them.

They wore through the balloons fairly quickly and then took a hose to everything and let the muddied mixed colors drain away. They hosed down a few people before they went trekking inside to shower the rest off and change into dry clothing. People laughed and smiled and recounted the event, dripping wet and some still dripping colorful water and sparkles. He had to say, despite his half hearted grumblings about it, Jesse looked good with his wild ass hair splattered with linger sparkles and Mercy looked positively radiant with her pink tinted hair.

He had just gotten done housing down Junkrat, who was very upset that a lot of the blowback dirt and soot had come off and left a very soft looking blonde underneath, when Jack kissed his cheek and deactivated his visor. Blue still streaked his face from his hair and his shirt was still stained with pinks, blues and purples. He had to say, they looked a lot better on him then the color scheme of that jacket of his.

“Have fun, boy-scout?” He grinned as Lena blinked up next, dripping in a multitude of muddied and mixed colors. He started hosing her down as she took off her goggles and rubbed the water away from her eyes.

“Yeah, this was nice of you, babe,” Jack said, leaning against him. “It was nice to forget about everything for a bit.”

“Kinda wished I used lukewarm water for the balloons,” He grinned as he helped Lena hose her hair free of wild colors, “Can’t wait for a warm shower.”

“Hmm, me too,” Jack grinned, a stray hand grabbing a handful of his ass.

He accidently jabbed his thumb into the mouth of the hose and jet sprayed Lena.

* * *

_To skip, scroll down to the next break, you miss nothing plot wise._

Each room had a basic shower in it, mostly made for one person. But if someone didn’t mind having water on the floor, the door could be left open and make enough room for two people squeezed tight against each other. Jack just drew the basic plastic curtain to keep most of the water in as they pressed tight against one another and let the warm water cascade down their bodies and wash away the lingering evidence of the water-balloon fight.

He kissed Jack softly and sweetly as blue ran down his face. Jack’s hands found his hips, pawing at the skin gently and greedy for touch. He cupped the sides of Jack’s face, sweetly brushing his fingers across skin before pulling Jack a bit.

“At least wait until the bath-bomb water is washed off,” He chided gently.

“Yeah, yeah, sure.”

There was a bottle of generic shampoo and a body of generic body-wash, something that he chided Jack about as he got a palm full of and scrubbed into his hair, getting the blue out. While his hands were busy, Jack went back to being a little shit and he felt sudsy hands on his chest and belly, rubbing against the skin in slow sensual circles. When he scrapped soap bubbles away from Jack’s eyes, a pair of faded baby blues crinkled with a smile.

“Did I get your old ass hooked on me?” He asked with a crooked smile.

“Have been for a long time, babe,” Jack said quietly, turning to the side to kiss his palm.

“Wash first,” He scolded, yanking Jack underneath the spray to get the shampoo out of his hair. Jack sputtered as he scrubbed the shampoo out of his hair. He got a palm full of the body-wash, again woefully plain, before starting to rub it into Jack’s skin.

He should have figured that rubbing each other down, pressed flush against one another and with what thoughts they had running through their heads that someone was going to sprout some wood. He was first, rutting against Jack as his own prick started to fill with blood and his warm wetness started dripping free from his front hole. They rutted against one another with little grunts as they tried to scrub the other down. Hands kept strayed to places though, slowly down the sides, over the hips and just slightly further back, along the lower half of the pectorals, tantalizingly close to slowly hardening flesh.

“Gabe,” Jack breathed before finally kissing him.

He kissed the man sweetly, gently pressing lips to lips even as they rutted against one another. His arms slipped around Jack’s torso and pulled him that much closer as Jack’s hands found his hips. His lips moved against Jack’s restlessly as he rutted against the man, rubbing soapy and slippery flesh against slippery flesh. Jack reluctantly pulled his hands away from his hands and grabbed him, adjusting him to slide against the warmth and slickness of Jack and the firm press of his strong slimmer thighs, sending shivery pleasure up and down his back and almost making goosebumps break out across his skin.

“Hmm, what do you want?” He purred against Jack’s mouth before playfully nibbling Jack’s lower lip.

“You,” Jack grunted out.

“Yeah, but any specific way, boy-scout?” He asked, grinning as he moved his mouth away from Jack’s to make him focus.

Jack growled and then pushed him against the shower wall and he liked it a lot more then he should have, his face darkening as he grinned into the heated kiss pressed against his mouth as Jack pressed himself flush and hard against him. Jack rutted against him as he slotted perfectly against him, Jack's warm and twitching prick and his completely drenched front hole rubbing against him in a way that had him losing his breath and his knees threatening to turn into jelly. He slated his hips just right and groaned against Jack’s mouth.

“Hmm… wait,” He rumbled out.

Jack downright _growled_ when he separated them and then held the two of them under the shower spray to get the body-wash off of them. When all the suds had been washed off, he gave Jack a smirk before sinking to his knees. It hurt a bit, but a bit of adjusting and he sat on his folded legs instead made it tolerable. Himself situated, he grabbed Jack’s hips and got him to lean against the wall to his back so he could get at what he was about to do.

A breath groan above him confirmed that it would not take long as he gently pushed his legs further apart to give him better access. He grinned up at the lidded blue eyes looking down at him before pressing a kiss to right above where blood flushed flesh almost begged him to touch and then finally giving Jack's prick a lick. Jack growled above him and the hard flesh on his tongue twitched. Grinning to himself, he dragged his tongue down, tasting the clean flesh and hot flesh before adjusting Jack's hips just slightly to drag his tongue along Jack's hot and slick dripping front hole and then moving back up to his dick. Jack’s hips jerked forward, making him pause, before he kissed the underside of the ruddy head.

“Come on,” Jack growled above him, panting hard.

“Patience,” He growled back, but he took Jack's dick into his mouth and gave it a soft suck. Jack groaned above him as he felt drool drip down his chin as he lavished his tongue and moved his lips and his hips rocked restlessly. When he dragged his tongue reluctantly away from Jack's dick and gleefully down to his front hole, some wetness trickled down his chin as Jack's taste saturated his mouth. Slightly salty and slightly tangy, a taste that he liked and hoped that he would get his fill of as long as he was with Jack.

Jack’s body shuddered hard above him, the man panting hard and grunting loudly and roughly. His scarred face was beautifully flushed and making those lidded blue eyes look all the more vibrant. Grinning up at him, he moved up and took Jack's dick into his mouth again and sucked a bit harder before moving to take him a bit deeper into his mouth. Because of testosterone, Jack had some length to his dick, not enough to deep throat but enough that it took some adjusting to get it all in his mouth and keep his lips wrapped around the base. But when he did, Jack started to make the most erotic sounds so he took to giving his boyfriend the best goddamn blowjob he was capable of.

A hand carded through his wet curls lovingly. He hummed around the flesh in his mouth, making Jack bodily jolt and push himself that bit deeper into his mouth. He scrubbed his tongue along the underside of Jack’s cock as he sucked, feeling the flesh twitch and throb in his mouth as Jack growled, grunted and panted above of him. He let the flesh drag along his tongue teasingly as he pulled all the way off to take a breath and work his jaw to unstiffen it.

“You like it, boy-scout?” He teased, jerking Jack with his hand.

“Yeah, edge-lord,” Jack growled deeply above him. The hand in his hair tugged hard and tried to push him back to it. He smirked up at the asshole before working some more spit up in his mouth and doing just that. Jack groaned above him when his lips sealed around his hard prick again and moaned loudly when he sucked.

He took what he could in his mouth, working his tongue along the underside and his lips on the upper side. His spit was starting to become a lot more saturated with the taste of cum, so he figured that Jack was close, hoped it really. His jaw was getting sore, his tongue was getting a bit numb and his legs were starting to hurt. He sucked hard, scrapped his teeth along the hard flesh, used one hand to gently tug and message the drawn up tight sac. _Come on, Jackie, come on, this old man isn’t meant to be on his knees for a long time._

Deciding that Jack's prick had gotten enough attention, he bodily adjusted Jack's hips to cant forward a bit more and then just dove in to tongue fuck him, wriggling his tongue into the wet heat and hear Jack lose his shit above him. He would have grinned if his mouth was not so busy. As well as he could, he shoved his tongue in and out of Jack, sometimes pausing to swirl around the inside of his entrance, sometimes pulling out just to give the outside feathery like little licks. Soon Jack was going hoarse above his head, growling and grunting above him.

The hair in his curls suddenly yanked a bit hard and he pulled off to yell at Jack for hair pulling, not even one raspy word out when Jack locked eyes with him and he felt some warm hit his collarbone and dripped down his chest. He looked down to see the last bit of what he only assumed was the last of Jack goddamn _squirting_ trickling down his thighs in rivulets, twitchy as he shuddered through. He looked up to see Jack shaking as he breathed harshly and quietly. Oh… well it would have been better if he said something but at least he did not blow it in his mouth.

He stood and grunted both from his knees and his own leaking erection that felt like it could have poked a hole in something. He barely stood straight when Jack latched on and kissed him, almost immediately sticking a tongue into his mouth. He hummed against Jack’s mouth, content to take a break and then grunting in surprise when a rough hand grabbed his aching prick. Jack grunted against his mouth and then moved to slot their mouths just right so the kiss could deepen as the rough hand started to stroke him.

Seemed the boy-scout remembered that other night because the rough and calloused hand moved in a way that had him groaning and shaking himself as he leaned into the kiss. The soreness in his legs was quickly forgotten and replaced with his coming orgasm as Jack stroked his prick just right. Sometimes the pleasant scrap of calluses against the flush skin was paused as a rough thumb swiped over the ruddy and weeping head.

The knot of pressure along his gut built up too quickly and he found himself shaking hard and quick. He must have gotten a lot more hot and bothered then he thought blowing Jack. Not that he had brag worthy stamina and nor did he really want to hold it. He grunted against Jack’s mouth, rocking his hips in Jack’s grip unabashedly. A small growl against his mouth and Jack tightened his grip perfectly. He shuddered from the extra burst of pleasure as it pushed him closer and closer to the edge.

“Come on, Jack,” He moaned against the man’s mouth.

Jack squeezed his fingers a bit more and that was it. He snapped his hips into Jack’s grip, grunting against his mouth as he shuddered and shook. When the sensitivity got to him, he slowed his hips and pulled away, Jack’s fingers relaxing and pulling away, letting the water rinse the mess from his fingers. They panted against one another as the water rushed down over them. Eventually Jack kissed him sweetly and turned the water off. He kissed Jack sweetly before they got out to dry off.

_End of smut._

* * *

When they were dried off and dressed, they came out into their room with their comm devices buzzing.

“How many missed messages do you have?” He asked, looking at the angry red icon next to the envelope icon. Jack gave him a look and he realized that his visor was still off. “Sorry, sorry. Here…”

He tapped the icon, letting the messages engulf his screen. The most were a mass of gibberish, capitalized and mixed with too many exclamation points and emojis. Most were also from Sombra, unsurprisingly. Finally he scrolled down the list to the oldest newest one to see what in the hell was going on. It was a message from Winston.

_Winston [21:57]: UN has approved of Overwatch’s actions. There will be an official vote to repeal the PETRA acts in three weeks but we have the majority vote as far as anyone’s concerned. We a planning a ceremony when we go public, please do not divulge this information until then. If you do not have a suit, be sure to give your measurements to Athena and she will order you one._

“Babe… you went quiet on me,” Jack said, a hand finding his shoulder.

“Uh… you know how we were talking about retiring? Looks like we got a few more years of work ahead of us,” He said, still reading the message over and over again. “Also, do you have a suit?”

“…what and what?”


	26. Victory!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: The usual ships, mild language
> 
> Overwatch has officially reformed, relationships are stronger then ever, the future is brighter. It's a happy ending.
> 
> First I would like to formally apologize for how completely shitty and rushed this chapter is. I lost my computer and had to type this up on mobile and then sneaking onto a computer to post it. Please forgive any mistakes and enjoy the sappy ending.

He adjusted Jack's tie to lay flatter and more neat on his crisp white shirt. Jack scowled blindly down as he kept fidgeting with Jack's suit, obviously not happy about the fretting.

"Tell you what though," He hummed to sooth Jack's ruffled feathers, "You still look so goddamn handsome in a suit."

"I'd say the same but you took my visor," Jack grumbled.

"You _know_ I look good," He grinned, completely shameless, "Besides, I look better _out_ of it then in it."

"Don't give me ideas, Gabe" Jack groaned and pinking a bit, "Not when we have to stand on stage in front of all those people."

"And don't be tellin' us that stuff," Jesse laughed as Hanzo combed his hair into order. Thankfully Jesse had left the cowboy accessories back home and he almost looked like a respectful adult all dressed up in his suit and medals. Or perhaps that was more due to Hanzo fretting over him for the past fifteen minutes.

He turned back to Jack's suit, running his hands over the many awards adorning his chest. All of them shiny and new, reissued with surprising speed and glee on behalf of the government, same as his own. The only new _new_ ones were the matching Medals of Valor adorning their respective chests. That had been a surprise when they got them in the mail with the others, but the letter detailing all the reissued medals included them on their lists so they just shrugged and accepted the high honor. Why look a gift high honor in the mouth, especially after all they had been through?

"Think we would have gotten the Purple Hearts if we hadn't of had them before?" He asked quietly, thumbing over the small purple square.

"Would have been pissed if not, lost my fucking vision," Jack chuckled.

He leaned forward and kissed Jack's brow and got a missed one on his nose in return.

"Are you guys done yeeetttt?" Genji called from the doorway. Genji awkwardly plucked at the robes they had layered over his metallic shell, as 'not to surprise everyone with his vacuum-formed ass' as it had been crudely put by some of the others. It went along elegantly with his master's and brother's robes and his unique color scheme, almost making Genji not look so abnormal.

"Keep them britches we forced you in, on Genji," Jesse called back, "It takes work to look this good."

Genji muttered something that got a glare from his brother before disappearing back out the door with a snide giggle. Jack snorted and he elbowed him when Hanzo glared at them, though he was fighting chuckles too. They were supposed to be respectable heroes tonight, not a bunch of yahoos joshing around like dumb kids. But it was kind of hard to fight the giddy mood in the air.

He patted down a cowlick on Jack's head and deemed them both presentable before looping an arm through Jack's. Jack squeezed his hand tight as he lead them out to the others waiting to step out onto the stage in the darkened backstage. The low light caught many a seqion and military medals as they quietly spoke and patently waited to be motioned on stage. In the dark Zenyatta's orbs glowed softly and did the visor of Genji's helm, sometimes he saw the glints of eyes or grinning teeth. Not long after them, East and West walked out to join them, though Hanzo still found things to fret over with Jesse.

With everyone present, one of the event staff said something into a small comm device and they heard the person rattling on, on stage, suddenly say:

"Now, without further ado, may I present the mainline of Overwatch field operatives!"

They trickled out in small groups, their names getting called out as they stepped on stage, some unable to be separated from others for any sort of list. They heard the applause or loud vocal confusion for some of them, people not sure how they felt about some of them protecting them from the world's threats. He almost heard Mama McCree yelling when Jesse's name was called. He hoped his folks and Jack's folks had good seats, it had been a pain to fly them all out and they had been so excited to see them. Their turn came up soon enough and he lead Jack on stage, squeezing their linked arms slowly.

The wide field, that had been empty early that morning, was now packed to the brim with human and Omnic bodies crammed together as far as the eye could see. A couple hundred thousand flashes from photographic devices and news drones went off as they stepped on stage to join the rest of the operatives that stood in neat rows with the tallest and biggest in back and the shortest and smallest in front. The best and infamous for last he mused to himself as they stepped forward, as this was when they were offically announcing to the world that they were alive after all.

"And former commanders Jack Morrison and Gabriel Reyes."

A rather loud roar erupted from the crowd then. People confused to see two dead men look very much alive and people who knew no better blindly cheering them on. Jack's and his folks were in the front row with the rest of the invited family members. His mother and father and Jack's mother yelled and hollered while Jack's dad just clapped. He threw his parents a smile as he joined the others amassed on stage, towards the back with their six foot and beefy frame.

The speaker, one of the older UN members that had banned and dismantled them to begin with, gave a tight lipped and obviously painful speech of how he looked forward to working with Overwatch once again. He rattled on a bit about what he had hoped to accomplish with Overwatch reinstated, world peace, better relations with various world powers, fighting the evils of the world, etc, etc.

"Now... We would like to announce whom we would like to be Strike Commander of Overwatch," The speaker said.

Wait what? No one had said anything about picking a Strike Commander, they had all just wordlessly accepted that Winston would lead and followed his leadership these past weeks that hearing the UN was trying to spearhead someone was just... Jarring. What the hell kind of bullshit was the UN trying tp pull now?

The UN member motioned behind him towards their group and he realized in less then a second who he was pointing at.

"Jack Morrison!"

...What the absolute fuck...

"...Gabe get me to a microphone right," Jack growled.

He lead Jack towards the snidely smiling UN member who held out a rather old slim microphone. He took it none too kindly before pressing it into Jack's hand. He swallowed a thousand old feelings as Jack lifted the microphone to his lips. The old feeling of pitch and tar scalded in the inside of his chest and for a moment he felt the same feeling that day that Jack was made strike commander of Overwatch and he was made commander of Backwater. He sucked in a pained breath between his teeth and his chest started to hurt something fierce.

"I decline," Jack said firmly, a tone not to be argued with and a hard glare to further it. There was a dead drop silence as the crowd muttered and the crusty old UN member gaped like a ugly landed fish. Seeing that no one was arguing with him, Jack lifted the microphone again. "Instead I would like to pass this honor onto someone who has worked hard and long for this promotion, someone that has more then a few years left in him. Someone ready for this position and all of it's responsibilities... I would like to offer the position to... Winston."

For some reason his heart soared and his eyes burned and a wide smile nearly broke his face as Jack blindly held out the microphone towards where Winston was standing. The big scientist was staring starstruck as the Overwatch operatives broke out in applause and cheers around him and encouraged him forward. Winston sputtered as he hesitantly stepped forward and took the microphone. The UN member was still gaping as Winston hesitantly started a clearly on the fly acceptance speech.

Jack was smirking quite confidently as they rejoined their friends.

* * *

"I can't believe that they tried to drop that on you... Again!" Angela tisked as they stood backstage.

Family and friends were backstage with them, smothering their respective loved ones with affection and congratulating them. Angela had taken to talking with them since she had no family that could attend, being angry for them for the most part. For their own part, they had moved on from the incident and were excited to see their parents again, ready to move on with their lives.

"I guess they thought it would work like before," Jack shrugged, "Honestly, trying to put an old man like me in charge of anything. Legally blind, not a team player much anymore and I need to retire soon. Those UN bastards are still stupid as shit."

"Winston looks happy at least," He shrugged, looking over at said scientist as Lena eagerly bounced by his side and Emily congratulated him. Winston was positively beaming with joy, looking his best that he had in weeks.

"I think you two earned yourselves some brownie points with him tonight," Angela smiled.

"I'm pretty sure he'll still hate me for the glasses thing," He muttered sheepishly, "And almost killing Athena... And getting Doomfist's gauntlet destroyed."

"Gabriel, I'm sure with all that's going on, he'll soon forget about everything else," Angela chuckled.

Fareeha came by to steal Angela to introduce to her father and they were left by themselves. Their folks were talking among themselves, his mother was laughing at something Jack's mom was saying, a loud and boisterous noise. He knew that their mothers would love each other and glad to see he was right.

"We've come a long way, huh?" He said to Jack.

"Yeah, seems like forever ago when we met again," Jack said, taking his hand and briefly kissing his knuckles.

"Yeah... Did I ever tell you I had these weird trippy dreams where I thought I was talking to you the first few nights back on base?" He chuckled, "I think they helped in a weird way."

He noticed that Jack was being quiet and looked to Jack to see that he was ever so nonchalantly looking at his hands. After a long awkward pause, gears started churning in his head.

"...No... Really?"

"To be fair, you really were asleep. I tried waking you up a few times just to make sure. You talked to me like I was there but you didn't respond to anything I said though. Gave a hell of a chance to listen..." Jack sighed loudly before adjusting the steady grip on his hand. 

"Okay, but how did you find out?"

"I saw Angela drag you in while I was walking around trying to wear myself out to sleep... I had no idea what she was doing. She took you into that operating room and when she left, I peeled off that mask and... Under all the extra eyes and teeth and shit it was you Gabe... It was you... I thought about ending it, right then and there but you started talking and... I was back in the old Overwatch days and wanting to make things right..." Jack explained softly.

"Shit, no wonder you forgave me so easily."

Jack found his jaw and brought him in for a kiss on his cheek. He snorted before kissing Jack's mouth in return.

"... Hey what's that?" Jack asked, jerking his head at something over his shoulder.

"What's what?" He asked, turning to look only to remember that Jack did not have his visor on. Scrunching his nose in confusion, he turned back to ask what on the hell Jack was talking about and did not see him. A grunt drew his eyes down to see Jack kneeling before him and fiddling with his pocket. His face started burning and his breath caught in his chest when Jack pulled out the box.

"Didn't think you wanted to be on those bad knees of yours," Jack gruffed, "But uh..."

"Jesus Jack, you don't even need to ask," He wheezed, already feeling tears well up in his eyes, "Yes, yes, yes, now get the hell back up here so I can kiss your dumb face."

Jack chuckled but got back up so he could throw his arms around the man and steal his mouth in a long kiss that left them both a little breathless and dizzy. When they finally pulled apart, he realized that they had gotten a cheering crowd.

"About damned time!"

"Way to go you two!"

"Congratulations!"

His mother elbowed through everyone, yelling as she all but threw herself on him and landed a kiss on his cheek. From the horrifically botched English and Spanish, he pieced together that she was excitedly already planning the event, she was happy for him and that he was the dumbest bastard she knew for taking so long.

"Mom," He groaned.

"Look at it this way, sweet dumb child of mine," His mother smirked, "You like your in-laws, I like your in-laws, you're getting married before you're sixty and you're respectful again. This is a happy ending, Gabriel, suck up and enjoy it."

Jack gently elbowed him out of his mother's arms and kissed him again.

"You heard her, shut up and enjoy it, edgelord."

"Stupid boy-scout."

"This calls for a celebration!" Junkrat yelled, detonator in hand.

"JUNKRAT NO!" Everyone yelled.

Junkrat only giggled before easily flipping the cap and punching the button. They braced for some powerful explosion to go off and start racking up damage. But there was only a long whistling sound, a second of silence, and then the sound of... Fireworks? Junkrat giggled before rushing to peek out at the sky. They followed after him and looked out to see the once dark sky now filled with bright and colorful fireworks. The crowd 'ooh'ed and 'aww'ed with them as they watched.

"Seriously, you cunts keep forgetting that I love me some fireworks and I don't set off me bombs around people for fun, only work," Junkrat grinned as he watched his handiwork. "What part of going legit don't you all get? Seriously! Roadie, can you believe these people?"

Roadhog just pet Junkrat's combed hair as a set fireworks popped off and formed the Overwatch symbol.

* * *

McCree splashed his little sister, making her shriek before she turned around and started returning the favor. McCree's hat ended up washed up by his mother's feet as she reclined in her chair. The short and stout woman only sipped her drink and kept reading from her well loved book. Her husband barely looked up from his oil drawing, scratching at his chin and leaving a soft yellow streak behind.

"Gabe!" McCree yelled when Hanzo joined in after a stray splashing hit him, resulting one seriously soaked cowboy. He almost looked like a drowned dog with all the soaked hair on his body, almost looked like a kicked drowned dog with the betrayed look on his face.

"I didn't raise no quitter, neither did your mother or father" He called, still writing. 

Jack snorted by his side. The once still man shifted a bit, muscles flexing as he got comfortable in the rickety lawn chair that groaned underneath the excess weight. Jack looked good in swim trunks and an unbuttoned tacky Hawaiian shirt. He was glad that Jack was becoming more comfortable with the patches of burn scars littering his body.

"Thought you were napping, old man," He shot back with a grin, pen still dancing across paper.

"Was," Jack chuckled, pushing down his sunglasses so that faded blue eyes could look him over critically. "What are you writing babe?"

"Memoir, figured it would help me in some way," He shrugged, "Help ground what happened and all that... Angie said it will help anyway, with the therapy and all."

"What are you calling it?" Jack asked.

"I don't know yet, still a work in progress, you don't name a work in progress," He chided playfully.

"You love coming up with names though," Jack pointed out. "At least tell me because you love me."

"Alright," He sighed dramatically before handing over the journal. Jack gave him a look and then waved his hand before his eyes. He snorted before taking it back.

"Alright... Tell me what you think of this..." He paused for a dramatic theatrical effect.

"Death of a Modern day Boogeyman or How Gabriel Reyes lived Again."

",,,you're such a goddamn nerd, you old edge lord," Jack laughed.

"My husband? Making fun?" He said, mock offended and distraught.

"You wouldn't have it any other way," Jack smiled.

"Shit, you're right, get over here so I can kiss you're dumb face," He grinned before yanking Jack over to kiss him.


End file.
